Love Thy Enemy
by MissyMaestro
Summary: Sayid drags a woman (OC) out of the wreckage of Oceanic Flight 815, only to discover later that it's the sister of an American soldier he had to kill years earlier. Loyalties are tested as the survivors learn more about each other.
1. A Jerk, a Cosmo, and a Flight

I wasn't a terrible flier, but I wasn't a pro, either. Oceanic Flight 815 was sitting on the tarmac and everyone was boarding. The jingling of the zipper on my high heel drew my attention. Fidgeting in nervousness, as usual. I cleared my throat and sat back.  
I was in the middle of the row. At least I'd have people beside me to distract me.  
A tall nerdy looking man sat next to me.  
"Hello," he said. "Scott."  
"Ah, Anya," I said, reaching across and shaking his hand. "I'm not a great flier. Hope you don't mind keeping me company."  
He laughed. "No worries. I fly a lot for work. Do it all the time. No problems." Suddenly, he stiffened and his face drew tight into a grimace.  
"Are, I," I paused. "What's wrong?"  
Scott gave his head a jerk past me.  
I snuck a look over my shoulder. All I could see was the back pocket of someone loading their bag into the overhead compartment. Shrugging, I looked back to Scott.  
"God damn Arab," Scott mumbled, his shoulders tense. He leaned over and mumbled, "I can switch you spots if you want. You know how they are with women."  
"No!" I spat. "Are you kidding me?"  
The man finished tucking his bag into the overhead. A woman behind him couldn't quite reach the compartment.  
"Here," he said softly, "Allow me." He quickly swept the bag out of her arms and into the overhead.  
Scott's eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. "Seriously? You trust this guy?" he hissed.  
"Hasn't given me a reason not to," I replied. I fumbled in my carry-on tote for a magazine. I snatched it out and buried my face in it. Conversation over, Scott.  
Scott crossed his arms across his chest and huffed.  
The Arab man took his seat. I glanced up from my _Cosmo._ He smiled and gave me a curt nod. His curly black hair was tucked back away from his face.  
"Sayid," he said.  
"Anya," I replied.  
"You look nervous," he said softly. "Have you flown before?"  
My heart thumped an extra thump. His eyes were dark. "Yes," I said. "I'm just a little anxious. Not my favorite activity."  
"Hopefully my presence doesn't worry you," Sayid said. He looked genuinely sorry, and I felt my mouth open slightly in sadness.  
"No," I said softly. "Of course not."  
Scott cleared his throat and sat up straighter.  
I cleared my throat back. "You know how ignorant people can be," I said loudly.  
The side of Sayid's lip pulled up into a half-smile. "That I do, Miss."  
"Anya, please."  
He bowed his head slightly and smiled. "Anya."  
Whether my heart's pounding was from the upcoming flight or Sayid's exotic good looks, I wasn't sure. I glanced back down quickly. Jesus, he was attractive. I swallowed and looked back to my article. 20 Ways to Spice Up Your Sex Life. I put my head back and closed my eyes.  
It was going to be a long flight.


	2. Turbulence

A few hours and a few drinks into the flight, I was feeling better. Scott was a jerk, Sayid was a babe. Life was good. A few hours to go.

"Why were you in Australia?" Sayid asked. "You are obviously an American. Work, perhaps?"

I nodded. "Work. I'm a writer and I just finished a stint at an Australian magazine. Going back to the States now. I've had enough cowboys and kangaroos."

Sayid smiled. "A writer? What were you working on?"

"Oh," I shrugged. "Just articles."

"Come, there must be something in particular you're proud of."

"I'm under contract from the American military," I said. "I write articles on women in the military."

"Interesting," Sayid said, glancing down at my shoes. "I'd have never guessed."

He was right. I wore skinny jeans and high heels, lots of mascara and had long hair that wasn't exactly a military-issue cut.

I shrugged. "Can't judge a book by its cover. So, what brings you to America?"

Scott laughed from next to me. "What do you think?"

Sayid leaned forward to say something, but the complimentary airline drinks made me stick my finger in Scott's face before I even knew what I was doing. He leaned out into the aisle in surprise.

"Listen here," I spat. "If you think-"

I didn't get to finish that sentence. The plane started to shake violently. I bounced up from my seat. "Oh, God," I uttered as I struggled to sit in my seat as the plane continued to bounce.

An arm flew across me, holding me back in my seat.

The fasten seatbelt sign flickered on and the flight attendants rushed up and down the aisles. Scott threw up into the aisle.

"Just some turbulence," Sayid said, leaning back. He buckled himself in.

I did the same, then sat back and clung to the arm rests for dear life. I didn't care that the bouncing had stopped.

"Nothing to worry about," he said, leaning over.

"Uh, huh," I said.

"Here," Sayid said, snatching my magazine off the ground. "This fell. Maybe reading will help you relax."

"I, okay." I took the magazine and held it, still staring straight ahead. I decided that I definitely hated flying. I took a few deep breaths, trying to slow my heart rate.

There was a sudden jolt and a loud bang. An alarm went off. People and bags were jostled every which way. The oxygen masks dropped. A small scream escaped from my throat.

"Put this on," Sayid said, pulling the mask into my face. His was already on. "Breathe. Anya, you're going to be all right. Look at me."

I panted in panic into the mask.

"Look at me, Anya," Sayid shouted over the noise of the rumbling and screaming. He put his hand over mine on the arm rest. Somehow, the squeeze was comforting.

I looked over at him. Tears of fear spilled over the rims of my eyes. There was a loud bang, and everything went black.


	3. Wakey, Wakey

Camp fire.

It smelled like camp fire. I had a splitting headache, I couldn't remember where I was, and of all things, it smelled like a camp fire.

There was something poking into my side, and _god _did my head hurt.

I opened an eye.

Holy shit. The plane. Did the plane crash? Where was everyone?

There was commotion outside. People were screaming. Wait, outside?

I tried to sit up, but was firmly buckled into my seat. That, and a large piece of the overheard compartment was pinning me down. Scott's seat was empty and Sayid's seat was crushed by the compartment. "Hello?" I shrieked. "Help!"

Things were black and smoking around me. There were people lying everywhere and a good amount of blood spray on the cabin walls. My head was killing me. I reached up with my free arm and felt it. A huge gash, lots of warm blood. The severity of the situation began to sink in. I started to scream and panic. With a mighty spastic jerk, I tried to push the wreckage off of me. It shifted and more weight pressed down on me. I gasped for air. Everything got blurry, and I tried my best to retain consciousness. My side suddenly felt warm and wet.

I was going to die. I closed my eyes and struggled to stay conscious.

Suddenly, I could breathe. My eyes fluttered open. Someone was reaching for me, pulling me up. They threw me over their shoulder. I grasped the back of their shirt and wailed as the pain in my ribs turned from excruciating to unbearable. Then, again, blackness.

Voices I didn't recognize woke me. My eyelids were too heavy to open.

"The pregnant girl is okay, right?"

"Yes, she's fine. The guy with the shrapnel isn't looking good, though."

The voices drew nearer.

"What about her? Will she be okay?"

"She's been out for a day," a woman's voice from somewhere around my midsection came.

Me? A day after I got knocked out in the plane? I tried unsuccessfully to open an eye. Instead, I turned my focus to making sure my body was still intact. Wiggle toes. Okay, toes were good. Fingers? Felt like ten fingers wiggling. But they weren't wiggling on a hospital bed. It felt like sand.

"Anya," a voice came. "Can you hear me?"

"Mmm," I moaned.

"My God," the woman's voice came. "Thank God."

"What's wrong with her?"

"She was pinned," the familiar voice answered. "I pulled her out just before the top of the fuselage collapsed completely. Though I fear that did some damage to her wounds."

"Better damaged than dead," a British voice came.

I was halfway between sleep and waking. I felt like I was floating somewhere above the voices. Was this even real?

"Anya, open your eyes."

I did. A small group of faces were hovering above me. Beyond the faces, there were palm tree leaves. Ah, at least we crashed in California. The ambulances would be coming soon.

"Honey, do you know where you are?" a woman asked. She had pretty green eyes.

"Yes, I passed out on the plane, then it was," I paused, remembering the smell of fire. "It crashed?" My voice cracked. The woman poured a lid full of water into my mouth.

"Yes, we crashed," she said. "A day ago."

I tried to sit up. Pain.

"Shh, sit back," the woman said. "You bled a lot." She pushed me down softly. "You were pinned down, and your ribs broke and," she paused. "They sort of poked out."

I shuddered and reached down to touch them, but found only cloth.

"There's a doctor," the woman continued. "He fixed them. You just need to take it easy for a few days. I'm Kate, by the way."

"Anya," I said. "Someone carried me," I stopped. "Who? And did anyone die?" I tried to take a deep breath to calm myself. Pain.

"Shh," Kate said, reaching for a plastic bottle. "Drink some more, honey."

I swallowed some water and blinked a few times. This definitely wasn't California. "Where are we?"

A voice from behind my head startled me. "An island. We crash landed here."

Kate patted my arm. "I'll be back later. Relax."

I looked back. A dark arm reached for a piece of torn cloth.

"Here," the voice came. It was so familiar. The man moved so that he was kneeling by my side. I realized I was lying flat on my back with my shoulders and head propped up slightly. Someone had definitely done something to my middle, judging by the tightly bound cloth.

"Remember me?"

I looked up. It was the man from the plane. His shirt was stained red with blood.

"Yes," I nodded. "What happened to you? Were you crushed?"

"No," he said, dipping the cloth in water and laying it on my forehead. "The blood, I'm afraid, is yours."

"I, how?"

Sayid smiled and took the cloth and wiped my cheek with it. "I pulled you from the plane and carried you to the beach before the explosion."

"Like, seconds before the explosion," the British voice came from nearby.

I looked up.

A man in a sweatshirt and grungy-looking clothes shook his head. "You should bloody well be dead. This man's a maniac, rushing back in the plane to pull people out." He nodded then wandered off, muttering to himself.

"You don't have to," I said, trying to swat at his hand.

"Jack said to watch over you," Sayid said.

"Jack?"

"He's the doctor. Don't worry, I have medical training."

"You're a doctor, too?"

Sayid grimaced. "Military training."

"Oh." Sleep had come upon me quickly. "Maybe I could write about you some time."

I didn't hear his response.


	4. Date Plans Ruined

The sand was warm and the water was beautiful. Palm trees provided shade and there were fish to eat. So maybe my ribs and head were bandaged and Jack, the doctor, had to check on me a few times a day. At least the surroundings were nicer than the white walls of a hospital.

"I've honestly never seen anyone heal this quickly," Jack mumbled, almost to himself. "It's like the ribs were never broken in the first place."

"Really?" I grimaced as he pressed on my ribs. "Doesn't feel like it."

"They're setting," Jack said. "It's only been a week. This is nearly impossible." He looked up at my head and peeled back the make-shift bandage. "A few more days and you won't have to keep it wrapped. It's just important to keep it covered while the wound is exposed." He put the cloth back on.

"Thanks, Doc," I called after him as he took off down the beach to check on his next patient. I pitied him. When the rest of us crashed on this island, we got to leave our jobs behind. I didn't have to write any articles on whether women should be snipers or not. Mr. Locke didn't have to report to his bosses at the box company. Charlie wasn't on the stage. Yet Jack was being called to fix this, check on that, stop this bleeding, fix that bone, Doc.

I yawned and traced my name in the sand. Being stranded wouldn't be so bad if we had a definite timeline of when we'd be saved. I could lie on the beach for a few weeks if I knew there would be work waiting for me later. But this could be forever, and that wasn't ideal.

"You look great!" Kate exclaimed. She had taken it upon herself to befriend me, the girl with the broken ribs and bandaged head. "Seriously, the color came back to your face."

I rolled my eyes. "Great. Let my suitors fall in line. Please, one at a time!"

She chuckled. "You know, he checks on you."

"Of course he does. He's the doctor," I snorted and shook my head. "Why wouldn't he?"

"No," Kate said, grinning. "Your personal hero and savior."

I tilted my head. "What?" Sayid had been a saint on the plane as it crashed down, and then when he dug me out from the wreckage and carried me to the beach. But he'd stopped by only as much as everyone else, if not less. I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I've seen him watching you. You'll know what I mean." Kate winked. "Well, gotta run." She stuck my bottle of water in the sand next to me and wiggled her fingers as she left.

Sayid, checking up on me? I craned my neck and looked down the beach. People were starting to put up semi-permanent shelters. I couldn't wait for Jack to clear me to move about so I could gather up supplies and make a shelter. I was currently hanging out under a scrap from the plane. I saw people milling about, but not Sayid. I sat back against the metal and sighed.

"Feeling better?"

I jumped, then swore. The ribs sure weren't back in commission yet. "I was just looking for you," I said as Sayid sat down next to me.

"For me?" He smiled.

"That's right. Kate says you're checking up on me."

Sayid's eyebrows raised slightly. "Just being mindful," he said sheepishly.

"Did I ever really thank you for everything?" I tapped my bandages. "I've been told it was a pretty impressive explosion."

"You did something for me. Why wouldn't I come back for you?"

"What did I do for you?" I shook my head. "I annoyed you with my lack of composure in the face of danger." I laughed. "I made your most recent plane ride the worst... besides the obvious reason?"

"You weren't afraid of me on the plane."

The smirk on my face melted away. It felt like my heart gave a soft sob. My stomach constricted. It was easy to joke about things, but sometimes real life knocked and you had to answer with a straight face. "I'm so sorry you have to deal with that."

"Don't be," Sayid said. He reached out and touched my ribs. "The bad helps show how good people can be. People like you."

"Whoa," I said. "Just because you dragged me out of a burning plane doesn't mean you can put your hands all over me. Please, I require dinner before that type of thing."

"Then dinner it is."

My eyes widened. "I was kidding."

"I will bring you dinner this evening." Sayid stood up and brushed the sand off of his pants. "Don't go anywhere."

"Very funny," I called as he sauntered off.

***

I pawed through my suitcase, looking for something that Kate would be able to help me slide into for my dinner with Sayid. So maybe my choices were limited. So maybe it was silly to get excited. He was probably just being nice. Heck, he probably felt obligated to look after me since he saved my life. Either way, I was feeling better and wanted to get into something stylish.

Kate pulled me to my feet. I groaned. "It's getting better," I said with a shrug. I wobbled to the shelter of the jungle to change.

"I forgot my shoes," I exclaimed once I'd struggled for ten minutes to walk fifty yards.

"Heels are hardly practical in the sand," Kate said. "You'll be fine barefoot. Besides, why are you trying so hard to impress him?"

I blushed. I didn't dare tell her about the ideas in Cosmo I'd been thinking about. "I'm not. I looked so good on the plane and now, this."

"Fine," Kate sighed. "I'll be right back."

"Thank you!" I called after her as she made her way back to my little corner of wreckage. I leaned against a tree, then stood back up, testing my strength. Things really were getting easier. The headaches weren't coming very much, and it didn't hurt to take deep breaths. Maybe Jack was right. It was some sort of impossible recovery.

A hand on my arm brought me out of my thoughts.

"That was fast," I said.

But the hold on my arm was too rough. I turned and saw a flash of silver.

"Keep your mouth shut or I'll slit your throat," a man's raspy voice came. He pulled me against his body, my back to his front, and wrapped his arm around me. I took a breath to scream. The man touched the tip of the knife to my neck. He meant business. I could feel him towering over me, and knew that I was outpowered in every way.

"Come," the man called.

Two men appeared from the trees. They weren't on the plane. Their clothes didn't look ragged like they'd been living in the jungle, but they did look worn.

I was too afraid to speak. Any self-defense training I'd learned for work completely slipped my mind. With a knife to one's throat, things look a lot different.

The men took ropes from their pockets and roughly tied my hands behind me. The tall man kept the knife to my neck the entire time.

"How many freaking pairs of high heels did you pack?" Kate's voice came.

I felt my eyes widen. _Kate. _"_Run!" _I screamed.

Of course, she didn't.

My captor stayed put, but the other men crashed through the trees to grab her before she could cause a scene. She screamed and threw punches, but one blow knocked her flat on the ground.

Now, the commotion had drawn attention. The three Others looked at each other, then hastily started to drag me away. My captor put the knife back into his belt. I flailed and screamed. One of my hands slipped free from the vine rope. They must have tied it in haste. I started clawing at their arms.

I heard voices from the beach. I screamed again as I scrambled to escape. "Help!"

One of the men kicked at me. Luckily, he missed my ribs.

A man called Sawyer hurdled a fallen tree and stopped. "Hold it right there," he growled. He had a gun he'd taken from the air marshal. He cocked it and aimed.

The Others stopped and let me fall to the ground.

"Who are you?" Sawyer flipped the hair out of his eyes and fixed his steely grey eyes on the man with the knife. I crawled back towards him. He reached out and dragged me across the ground and stepped in front of me. "Didn't you hear? I asked who you are."

There was a rustle, and more men from camp showed up. Jack and Sayid quickly ran to me. Sayid fell to his knees and scooped me into his arms. Jack gave me the once-over, then pulled my button-down shirt open and pressed on my bandaged ribs.

"She's fine," he said before jumping up.

"I asked who you were," Sawyer said. "Next time, I'm not going to ask nice."

Two of the men scrambled while the biggest charged toward Sawyer. That surprised him, and he popped off two shots. The man barely stopped when a bullet tore through his shoulder.

Jack dove at the man, grabbing his legs and knocking him to the ground. Sawyer quickly stepped on his chest and pinned him down. The others has disappeared back into the trees as quickly as they'd appeared.

"We've got some questions for you, chief," Sawyer growled as he pressed down on the man's chest.

A large rock hurled through the air and hit Sawyer square in the back of the head. He stumbled, and the large man grappled for the gun. He didn't get it, but managed to fight off Jack and Sawyer and make his way into the trees.

"Stay with her!" Jack yelled as he tore off after him.

"Where the hell did those sons of bitches go?" Sawyer cussed. "I had him." He spit blood from his mouth and tucked the gun back into his waistband. "Damn it."

"What were you doing out here by yourself?" Sayid demanded.

"Kate's unconscious," I said, pointing. "She was coming out here to help me change, then these guys grabbed me."

"I've got her," Boone's voice came. "I think she'll be all right when she comes to. Maybe we should have Jack check on her when he gets back. I'll carry her back."

"I saw you not an hour ago," Sayid said as he picked me up.

"I can walk," I objected.

"I'm sure you could," Sayid said sarcastically. Then, a sly smile slid onto his lips. "You know, you didn't have to put yourself in danger again to get my attention."

I squirmed. "Please! I'm not a damsel in distress."

Sayid stopped and looked down at me with a smirk on his face. "Of course not. These situations are completely under your control." A few steps later, he was frowning. "Anya, today could have been much worse."

He turned to say something just as I hoisted myself higher into his arms. We were nose to nose. "I know," I breathed.

He set me down softly under my chunk of plane once we reached the beach.

"You know," he said, wiggling the metal.

"Stop!" I said. Sayid looked at me quizically. "It's not tied down. Don't break my piece of plane."

"Exactly," he said. "Let me make you something. There are plenty of materials left over."

I struggled to my feet. "Then I'll help."

"Sit back down! Your ribs aren't set yet."

"Are too. I just survived getting dragged and jostled around. I feel fine. Besides, Jack said they're healing ridiculous fast."

"Anya."

"What?"  
By now, we were again nose to nose. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the sexual tension that had built up since he sat next to me on the plane. I looked at his lips, then back to his eyes. I touched my tongue to the back of my teeth and decided not to act on the many thoughts swirling in my head.

"Just," Sayid whispered practically into my lips, "be careful." He turned and stalked off to find what he needed to build my shelter.


	5. Shelter Me

The next day, I found myself a little sore as I tried to tie bamboo stalks together with twine made from vines from the jungle. I was moving slowly, but would rather sleep on bare sand than give up.

"Tell me more about your job," Sayid said as he wiped sweat from his brow. "A writer."

"I just interview soldiers or sailors or what have you and write their stories down. They have to do the hard part, being out there and actually living through the combat and missions." I tied a knot only to watch it promptly fall out.

Sayid grinned as he walked over to tie it for me. "It's not as hard as you think."

"I didn't think tying knots was hard," I mumbled.

"Being a soldier," he said. "I was one, once."

I tilted my head in surprise. "Oh? What branch?"

"Ah, the Republican Guard."

A piece of twine I'd been fooling with tumbled to the ground. "What?"

"It was a long time ago," Sayid said. "A lifetime. Your writing," he hastily added. "Tell me more."

Somehow, in all of my travels and interviews, I'd never actually talked to someone that was a former military member of a country the United States was warring with. I was suddenly unsure how much I should reveal. How strong were his loyalties? Was this camaraderie making me unfaithful to my country?

"It was a long time ago, I promise," Sayid said. "I have no ties in the Guard. Surely that had to have crossed your mind. I hardly look like I'm from Texas."

I nodded. "I'm sorry. Just a huge fan of the U.S. military. Can you blame me? They pay my paycheck. They feed my shoe habit." I laughed.

We both reached for a large rock we were using to hammer bamboo down. Our hands brushed. As childish as it was, I blushed. He handed it to me and took a break from his work.

"What made you so interested in military operations?"

I shrugged. "My older brother Tommy was in the Army. He's quite a bit older than me, but we were close. He was killed in Iraq a long time ago. Still feels like yesterday, though." I hammered a piece of bamboo into the sand and watched it as it promptly fell over.

"Here, let me," Sayid said. He gave the bamboo an impressive whack, driving it down into the sand.

"I'd sure have problems if it wasn't for you," I laughed.

Sayid nodded his head, but didn't say anything.

"Thinking something?" I asked, touching his arm.

He cleared his throat and stepped away from my touch. "Nothing."

We finished the shelter in silence.

***

I'd been feeling well for a week. Everything was healed. Things had fallen into a routine of sorts. Gather fruit, cook the fish the men caught, play with Walt's dog, and try to breathe deeper than the day before. The bandages had come off. How they healed so fast, I had no idea. Jack said it was scientifically impossible. A mutant, he'd called me.

I was curled up under my tarp, reading by the fire, when the fire bolt of lightning streaked across the sky. I glanced up and frowned. It had rained on and off during the past two weeks, but it hadn't stormed.

My tarp started to rustle in the wind. The one thing I'd convinced Sayid that I could do perfectly- secure the tarp. Now, it flapped about. The wind picked up steadily until the fire blew out and I was forced to put my book down. I grumbled and rolled over to sleep. The wind picked up even more and my tarp flapped free from its twine.

"Ughn," I moaned as I tried to reach up for it. It flapped to and fro, eluding my grasp. I groaned and swore as I reached for the tarp. Finally, it blew free and blew towards other shelters. I saw it wrap around a tree, so I stumbled through the sand toward it. The island had a way of being clear one minute, then downpouring with fierce force the next minute.

Before I got there, Sayid appeared from the jungle and looked at the tarp in confusion. He grabbed it and carried it toward the beach.

"Thank you," I said. "It blew off of my bamboo, I couldn't reach it in time." I was panting and holding my side. Writing about the military didn't mean I had to be in shape like the soldiers. I preferred to sit with my laptop and write. High heels didn't do anything for activity levels, anyway.

"Anya," he said. "I can help you tie it down securely. You're in pain."

"Thank you," I said. "My ribs are fine. It's just my lack of fitness. I swear, I'm pretty much eternally indebted to you already."

Sayid stopped walking and looked at me. "No, don't say that," he said roughly.

"I was kidding," I shouted into the wind. A few drops of rain started to fall. "We'd better hurry!"

A few minutes later, I was tucked in the corner of my shelter on a blanket as Sayid reached up, tying the tarp down in a way I'd never thought of. "This way," he said as he pulled the twine tight, "it will stay even if wind comes in from the bottom." He moved to the corner I was sitting under. He reached up and pulled twine tight.  
I couldn't help but sneak a peek at his hard body. His muscles were all rigid. They moved as he worked, and I had to bite my lip.

"There," he said. "That should hold up."

I stood up, catching him in the chin with the top of my head. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" I reached out and touched his chin. "I just wanted to say thanks."

Sayid popped his jaw, then laughed. "No harm done."

"I'm sorry, I'm not usually this clutzy. Really." I pressed myself back against the cool metal of the plane parts. Smooth, Anya. A man fixes your home and you head butt him from beneath.

Sayid didn't move away. He stood with a hand on the corner he had just tied, facing me. "This will keep you dry tonight, but you won't be warm."

Something in my stomach turned warm and a tingle ran down through my thighs. "No," I breathed. "It won't." Was I even breathing? My fingers tingled in anticipation. I reached out to touch Sayid's hips.

But he was moving away. "I can build you a better fire that won't burn out in the wind and rain," he said, swiftly reaching down to my fire's remains. "It'll burn hotter, too. Come, I'll show you before the rain really begins." He turned and gave me a genuine smile. The man loved being helpful.

I rolled my eyes and clenched my fists. Damn it. He had to be doing this on purpose.


	6. He's a Ten

I felt pretty useless around camp. But I wasn't the only one. Shannon enjoyed tanning and reading magazines, so I joined her one afternoon. We were chatting about this and that, discussing Cosmo articles, and talking about what fashionable things people had left behind in the crash. We were both lying on our stomachs with magazines in front of us.

"So," Shannon said, lowering her sunglasses. "Who would you hook up with here?"

I rolled my eyes. "Come on. It'd be so awkward to be stuck with someone you hooked up with. There's no disappearing and never seeing them again if it goes badly."

"Please," she said with a laugh. "The doctor's pretty cute, and you know, a doctor. Looks _and _money."

I grimaced. "Nah. Not my type. Michael's cute, but the kid complicates things."

"True. Oh, Sawyer," Shannon said.

"Absolutely," I said, laughing. I opened an eye and looked over at her. "No question."

"Absolutely what?"

I looked up. Sawyer had walked over and was standing in front of us. Shannon hadn't been pitching his name as a question. She'd been greeting him. Oops. "Absolutely," I paused. "You're in my sun." I wasn't sure if it was the heat or my humiliation that made my face burn.

"Sure, doll face," he said. He sank down and sat in the sand in front of us. "You ladies playing the rating game?" Sawyer ran a hand through his hair. "How do I rate?"

Shannon rolled her eyes. "Please. We have more important things to talk about."

Sawyer picked up a Cosmo. "Oh, of course. Like Five Ways to Please Your Man. That I can get on board with. So, any demonstrations?"

Shannon groaned but I giggled. I couldn't help but glance at his open shirt. He had definition of muscles I didn't know existed. Unfortunately, he caught me gazing.

"Like what you see? Tent's always open for you." He flipped the hair out of his face and smiled.

I blushed.

"Shut up," Shannon said. "You're such a creep."

"Hey," Sawyer said, standing up and brushing the sand off, "don't mind me. I was just leaving, anyway."

Shannon 'tsked' and rolled her eyes. She flipped onto her back and wiggled to get comfortable. I looked up at Sawyer and couldn't help but smile at his cockiness. He winked before turning and lurking away.

"I thought you were into the Arab guy," Shannon said. "Shareef."

"Sayid," I said. "He saved me, and I guess that makes him pretty attractive." I laughed. "I mean, there's nothing like a knight in shining armor, right?"

"Someone said he's from Iraq. Like, a terrorist."

"Just because he's from Iraq doesn't mean he's a terrorist," I said. "Come on. There are lots of good people there, too."

"But he was a soldier."

"If someone came into your country, wouldn't you want to defend it, too?" I asked. Having written so much about the military, I'd heard tons of soldiers say that they didn't hate the enemy soldiers. They understood their need and desire to protect their country. American soldiers usually just hated the governments of countries we were warring with.

"Whatever," Shannon said. "Switch me magazines." She swapped and continued to thumb through pages.

I snuck a peek down the beach and spotted Sayid throwing a ball for Walt's dog. He looked over and caught my gaze. He smiled and lifted an arm in greeting. I smiled and settled back down, hoping the sunscreen we'd found wasn't expired.


	7. Sand Castles

I was getting bored. Nothing was going on. Some guys had come up with a golf course, but I wasn't much of a golfer. I missed my step classes at my gym and I missed being able to show and get my nails done. My great dane Rocko was staying with my brother and his wife, and I hoped he hadn't eaten them out of house and home.

The sand felt nice as I piled it up and tried to make a sand castle. It was close to sunset, and there was something about the moment that I thought would make a good setting for a travel commercial. My turret crumbled repeatedly. Giving up momentarily, I sat back and stared at the colors in the sky.

"Construction problems?" a voice came.

I turned and watched Sayid walk over. He promptly plopped down next to me and reached for wet sand.

"Haven't seen you all day," I said. "Been off building something to get us rescued? G.P.S. tracker or something, I'm sure?" I nudged him.

He rolled his eyes. "If only. Every attempt we've made so far has failed or has been sabotaged." I watched as his hand smoothed down the top of my castle wall. He scooped up wet sand and packed it against my crumbled wall. His hands were smooth and unscarred. Mine were scraped up from lugging a camera around the world.

"There," Sayid said. "Reinforced and ready to withstand an enemy invasion."

In a flash of yellow fur, the castle was a pile of sand.

I laughed and petted Vincent as he stood panting in the remains of our sand castle. "The enemy invaders are getting cuter."

Sayid looked up and smiled. "Yes, they are."

"Hey," I said. "I am not the enemy here! I've never invaded anything in my life."

Sayid chuckled. "Of course not. Not Anya." He patted Vincent before the dog trotted away. "I care for you," he said softly.

I was taken aback. "What?"

"Even from the moment I met you. On the plane, I could tell you were not judging me, not assuming I would blow up the plane." He ran his hand over the sand.

I grinned. "Of course not. The jerk next to me was cause for concern, though. I still think that's why we're here." I laughed. "You never know, those white guys are pretty suspicious."

He reached out and stroked my bottom lip with his finger. "I do care for you."

I grabbed his hand. "I know." I had enough of his politeness. He was going to tell me that he cared for me, then be a gentleman and go back to his shelter.  
Yet his next move shocked me. His hand dropped to my shoulder. He fiddled with the strap of my tank top, then paused. "I have no intention of hurting you. Perhaps I should,"

"No." I sat up, straddled his lap, and sank down onto my knees.

His hands found their way to my hips. "Anya," he breathed.

I brushed my lips against his, testing the waters. He exhaled in a short pant. His breath was sweet. I ran my hands over his abs, up his chest, then clutched his shirt.  
He ran his hands up my back, pushing my tank top up and out of the way. I shivered at the touch and arched my back. I involuntarily sank an eye tooth into my bottom lip to suppress a moan. Sayid was strong. He pulled me in and pressed my body against his. We were both breathing hard in anticipation. Our lips met. His kiss was passionate and soft, but his muscles were hard. His arms around me were holding me there tight, but his tongue flicked against mine gently. The kiss was warm and deep. I pressed my tongue into his hungrily, wanting more of him. I buried my hands in his hair and tightened around fistfuls of it. We fell back into the sand.

A scream from somewhere along the beach made us both sit up straight and look toward the source of the noise.


	8. Revelation

Claire was missing. What's worse was that she was pregnant. Charlie was gone, too. A search party went out, but I didn't think I'd be of any use. I stayed on the beach. Feeling a little useless, I made my way out into the jungle to collect firewood. I snatched smaller sticks from the jungle floor and stuffed them into my back pack. Everyone needed kindling, right? It was unnerving to try and think about who took Claire, or what they wanted with her. I focused my thoughts on finding sticks. I imagined them burning. That kept my mind occupied, at least.

I stood up and sat my pack on the ground, scanning the area for more twigs. I heard a rustling and turned to look for the sound. I didn't stand a chance. Someone slammed me into a tree and pressed themselves against me. It hadn't been that long since my first encounter with the others, and now they were back. I tried to scream, feeling violated more now than ever. The first time had been bad, but now, with this much contact, it was worse.

"You stay quiet, we just want information from you right now," the man spat. "Where's the boy? Who has the boy? We want the child."

"No," I tried to scream, but a hand muffled my voice. A horrible realization sunk in. This was the same man that attacked me as before. Now, I could smell his breath and feel every part of him pressed against me. I struggled and tried desperately to get away.

A gunshot rang out in the quiet of the jungle. The man released me and stepped back. I shrieked at the top of my lungs, but stopped short when a bullet tore through his temple, seemingly at the same time the second boom from the gun sounded. I tried to look away, but it was right in front of my face. Blood poured through the bullet holes for a split second before the man fell to his knees, then slumped over.

"Anya," Sayid's voice came. "Anya!" He crashed through the trees, gun in hand, and reached for me. "How many more are there?" He pulled me into his body with one arm and canvassed the trees, gun still ready to fire in the other hand. He walked back toward a clearing, half dragging me, keeping me safe under his arm. His eyes scanned the area, never looking down at me.

"No more," I cried. "Just the one. He was the only one." I was shaking by now. A man had just died right in front of me. My God.

Finally, Sayid relaxed. He buried his face in my hair. "Anya," he breathed. "I saw you come in here and followed you just to be safe."

"Thank you," I gasped. "Thank you. I don't know what I'd have done if you didn't shoot him."

I thought I felt him kiss the top of my head, but then he pushed me away. I stumbled over the vines on the ground, tripping and landing on my butt. I looked up at him in confusion.

"Do not thank me for killing a man." He stared at me and slowly put the gun back into his waistband. His voice rose. "Do not ever do that."

"You saved my life. Sayid?" I slowly rose to my feet. I reached out for him, my hand still trembling, but he stepped back. I didn't understand why he flew off the handle.

"Consider it atonement for what I have done," Sayid snapped. He turned around, but then turned back to look at me. He was angry. "You want to thank me for murder? Tell me. Your brother. You said he was a soldier and died in Iraq."

A chill raced across my skin. "He was a Ranger," I whispered. Why would Sayid be bringing this up? It couldn't be possible. I couldn't imagine it. I was shaking worse than before. How was it possible that simple words were worse than being assaulted by a stranger, an Other?

"We engaged in a firefight with an American Ranger group near a village. My best friend was shot through the heart. I watched him bleed to death. I killed the man who shot him. I put a bullet through his brain. Anya, do not thank me." Sayid's voice suddenly dropped to a low volume and the anger disappeared. "Do not thank me for taking a man's life."

"Tommy," I whispered. At first, his words bounced around in my mind, but didn't register. Did Sayid just confess to killing my brother? Tommy had been shot in a firefight outside Baghdad. They were there to collect information but something had gone wrong. Tommy came back to the States in a box. Sayid, the man I'd been spending my time with, was the man responsible for his death. For years I'd assumed he was a terrorist, a man willing to blow himself up in a marketplace. That would have been acceptable. But that the man that killed my brother was a warm, sweet human troubled me deeply. My stomach churned and I felt ill. I turned and ran blindly through the trees, hoping I'd somehow end up back at camp.

"Anya!" Sayid called after me. "It is too dangerous! Please!"

Leaves whipped me on the arms and legs as I ran, my arms outstretched, batting away tree limbs and vines.

I wasn't sure what I was running from. Fear of Sayid never crossed my mind. He would never hurt me or anyone else from our camp. The mere fact that my brother's killer wasn't easy to hate shook my very soul.


	9. Red

Days later, I had seen only Sayid on the beach. He had followed me back to my shelter after our argument, but hadn't said a word to me since. There had been plenty of commotion and talk on the beach to keep me busy. People were trying to plan an attack on the mysterious Others, and some were trying to learn defensive techniques.

I took a break one afternoon and headed out into the jungle to bring back fruit. It'd been a rough few days. I tripped over a vine and landed hard on the ground. That was the breaking point. Tears spilled down my face.

"Someone out here?"

I sniffed and looked up. Sawyer had just come through the clearing.

"It's me. Don't worry," I called. I tried to get myself together, but couldn't stop the weeping. At this point, the frustrations had built up and I wasn't crying for one thing in particular.

Sawyer sauntered over. "You cryin', Anya?" He frowned and knelt down next to me. "Knee's skinned. You all right, Red?"

"Red?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Your hair. Looks red in the light." He used his thumb to push it away from my face. "Have a fight with Mohammed?"

I turned my head away and wiped at a tear making its way down toward my chin.

Sawyer draped his arm around me and nudged me with his body. "Come on, Red. Don't look so surprised. Everyone knows who's friendly with who. No reason for you to get so bent out of shape about one man. There's lots of men on this island. Say, I happen to know one who you could take for a spin any day."

"Can't you see I'm a mess? This is a terrible time for you to try and hit on me," I said, half amused, half annoyed. I couldn't help but crack a smile and give a short laugh.

"I'm not hitting on you, Red." Sawyer frowned. "I'm just pointing out your options. Just because he was in the army doesn't mean he's the only guy who knows what he's doing on this island." He reached out and touched my cheek. "Look, dry."

I blinked slowly and bit my lip. In a strange asshole-ish way, he was charming. I'd been so enamored with Sayid that I hadn't given anyone else a second look.

"I can see those wheels turning," he said. "So why don't you just kiss me?" He touched the side of my face, not trying to pull me toward him, just resting it and waiting to see if I'd turn my head. I did.

His whiskers felt nice as I touched my palm to his face as we kissed. I could imagine him tasting like whiskey. There was something about a southern man and whiskey.

"Mmm," Sawyer mumbled into my lips. He bit my bottom lip softly.

I moved my hand to his knee, but to my surprise, he pushed it away.

"Hands off, Red," he mumbled.

I found that attractive and kissed him harder. When we pulled apart, I felt guilty, but didn't regret it.

"Look at that," he said, "completely forgot what you were crying about." He laughed and stood up.

"What?" I exclaimed. "That was a distraction? What?" I jumped up and pushed him. "You're a jerk. You're such an ass."

"Easy, Red." Sawyer brushed off his shirt. "I know how to cheer a girl up. Besides, I've been wanting to do that since I saw those long legs in those high heels on the plane." He wiggled his eyebrows at me. "Very nice."

"Sawyer," I whined. "I can't believe this."

"Oh, calm down. I'm not gonna tell your boyfriend, so just relax." Sawyer flipped the hair out of his eyes and rolled his eyes. "You can always come to me if you're looking for something that's made in the U.S. of A. Keep your options open." With a wink, he turned and headed back towards camp. "Nice lips," he called over his shoulder.

I was furious. Sayid would have never pulled something like that. _Sayid? _If he was my standard for how men should act, I figured I should sit down and think some more. The past was the past, and with a limited pool of people on the island, it wasn't a good idea to isolate _anyone._


	10. Moonlight Serenade

I wasn't sleeping when Sayid came into my shelter later that night. I could sense him behind me, studying my face as I tried my hardest to look like I was as a matter of fact sleeping. I didn't want to talk about the revelation that had come out in the jungle. I didn't want him to know that I had kissed Sawyer. Why did that even matter to me? I felt like I was betraying Tommy by even existing in the same place as the man that killed him.

I heard sand shift and knew he wasn't leaving. I opened an eye to find him sitting near me.

"You're a horrible actress," he said softly.

I sat up and stared at him. Words wouldn't form in my brain or on my tongue, so I stared numbly. What do you say to an Iraqi soldier that killed your brother? It had never struck me to imagine what I'd say to him if I ever met him. Who knew I'd meet an Iraqi soldier, and specifically, the one responsible for Tommy's death?

"I had to see you were all right," Sayid said. "Anya, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I wasn't sure at first, but then when I was, I couldn't tell you. I am sorry."

Words didn't come. There was nothing I wanted to say. I wasn't holding anything back, because my brain was still numb to it all.

Sayid silently moved closer and sat on my blanket. He reached over and brushed the hair out of my face.

Without knowing exactly what I was saying, my lips started moving. "It's war."

He leaned forward and looked into my face. "What?"

It was as if my mouth and muscles refused to move. An exhaustion had set into my body. "I know. It was just war."

"I regret those things every day," he said.

"You ignored me for two days."

Sayid's lip twitched, then he smiled. "I," he paused. "Thought you would want nothing to do with me. You ignored me, as well." He frowned. "I never meant to hurt you. I apologize. I thought you hated me." He pursed his lips, shook his head, and sighed.

The moon was bright and I wished it was a little darker to hide the tears that had begun to fall. "Tommy would have found this all funny, you know."

Sayid swallowed and said nothing.

"I mean, I was his annoying kid sister, and how annoying would he think it was for me to fall for an Iraqi?" I laughed through the tears and ended up crying harder. "He'd have appreciated the irony."

"You fell for me?"

"Can you tell me something?" I asked, trying my best to form words among the sobs.

Sayid nodded. "Anything." His voice was soft and comforting.

I took a few shaky deep breaths and tried to steady myself. "What was it like when he died?"

"Anya, no," Sayid said.

"Not the bad stuff," I quickly said. That's something I definitely didn't need details about. My imagination already took care of that. "Him. Did you notice anything?"

Sayid put his forehead in his hands. "Yes. I did. I can see it like it was yesterday. Someone fired from a rooftop and struck someone on my side in the leg. It wasn't an American. But a young man next to me panicked and fired at the Americans on foot patrol. They fired back." He stopped and rubbed his eyes with his thumbs, as if trying to vanquish the memory. "Your brother was an excellent marksman. That, or very lucky. He hit his target to secure his comrades."

I shivered. Tommy killed someone. That's the part I hadn't been prepared to hear. Sure, being in the special forces meant that there was serious work to be done, but I'd lifted Tommy up to be a saint. He saved lives and rescued people. It didn't matter how; he just did.

"But his target was my comrade and best friend since childhood." Sayid sighed. "So I returned fire."

I nodded. "He was brave?"

Sayid nodded back. "Yes, Miss. He was. Until the end."

We both sat in silence, knowing that we weren't broken, but that something between us would never be the same.


	11. The Warning

A few weeks had passed since my confromtation with Sayid. Lots had happened on the Island. We'd discovered a group of people, the Others. There was a Hatch, there was a group of survivors from the tail end. Michael had gone off the deep end, and things were strange. The Others were still a problem. We'd have several exchanges and chases, our people getting taken, us taking them hostage, and finally, things had seemed to calm down. The same had gone for the relationship between Sayid and myself. My shock had worn off. So he'd killed my brother. On this island, it'd be absurd for me to not have some bizarre connection to him. Everyone else seemed to have some one in a million connection.

I was poking around the Hatch, running an errand for Rose. She had taken the role of Island mother, which everyone embraced.

The Hatch was was currently void of anybody, besides Locke and Eko, who were pressing the button every 108 minutes to save the world. I mostly ignored Locke. I enjoyed the military men I worked with back in the real world, not Locke and his philosophy crap. He had been useful at first- tracking, hunting. But now he was a royal pain in my ass and I'd have felt just fine if he fell off a cliff or something.

"Anya," he said as I walked by. "I don't see you down here often."

"Nope," I said with a shrug.

"Where's Sayid?"

I shrugged again.

"Anya," Locke stepped forward. "I'd like to talk to you about something. It's important, and if you'd just hear me out, I think it'd help out in the long run. It'd help us all out."

"What is it? I'm grabbing something to take out to the kitchen." I stood impatiently with my arms crossed.

"It's about you and Sayid." Locke walked over to me.

I snorted. "I don't really want to hear it. What, he's Iraqi? He's dangerous? He tortured Sawyer? What is it?"

"It's none of that. Anya, just listen to me." Locke frowned and grabbed me by the arms and shook me. "The Island doesn't want you two together. I've seen it. It'll lead to," he paused. "Bad things. Don't. Steer clear of him."

I snorted again. "Let go of me. Locke, what's your deal?"

"It's not my deal. I've seen things. The Island showed me. Bad things are going to come from any partnership you two have. People are going to die. You'll change." His voice had risen in volume and his eyes were wide.

"Thanks for the info," I said, shaking him off and stalking off to the kitchen.

"Anya," Locke called. "Anya! You have to listen!"

I slammed the door and picked out what we needed. Rose had sent me with a grocery list, she called it. She said normal tasks were good for us. I'd have agreed if Locke hadn't spewed his crazy on me. I frowned as I grabbed a box of Dharma Initiative corn flakes. Trouble from being with Sayid? My lip curled involuntarily and chills ran down my spine. Locke had lost it.

I set the groceries back down on a shelf and pulled my rubber band out of my hair and padded across the Hatch to the shower. It was unoccupied, so I stepped in and washed the sand and grime from my body. As I stood in the steam and let the water wash over me, I daydreamed about America, about steak, about ice cream. Anything to keep my mind off of the encounter with Locke. It was eerie.

A pounding on the door brought me to.

"Locke, go away."

The door opened and I stood in disbelief behind the shower curtain.

"Locke, I'll kill you. I'll shoot you dead. One word. I swear."

The voice that answered was familiar. "I'd believe it, coming from you."

Sayid.

"What are you doing in here?" I hissed, popping my head out from the shower curtain.

"Charlie came to talk to Locke, saw him harassing you, so Charlie came and told me. I thought I'd make sure you were all right." He shut the door and leaned against it. "I hear I'm bad news."

"You're about to see bad news if you don't get out of here." I slid the shower curtain back over, pretending like he wasn't there. I was grumpy.

"Do you believe him?" Sayid's voice came from the other side of the curtain. I heard him kick off his boots.

"I don't know. He's crazy, but so is this island." I lathered shampoo into my hair vigorously, trying to wash away the creepy feeling I had.

"So, Anya," Sayid said slowly. He wasn't across the room anymore. "Are you a risk-taker?"

I laughed. "What? I guess so." The last of the shampoo was running down my body. The air was filled with a tropical flowery scent. "I laugh in the face of danger."

"Then take a risk with me," Sayid said, drawing back the shower curtain. He stepped in and pushed me gently against the wall. His black curls dropped in the steam.  
For the second time, someone pounded on the door and interrupted my shower.

"We're busy," Sayid called. He smirked and studied my face, tracing my jaw line with his finger.

"Please, you need to come out of there." Locke pounded again. "I'm not kidding. You can't do this."

The bolt was thrown on the door, but I still felt bizarre talking to the man while I was undressed.

"_You can't do this!" _he yelled as he pounded.

"I say we can," Sayid said, his eyes half-lidded and full of desire. He pressed his lips to mine and my knees felt weak.

The water had run cold when I found myself leaning against the wall, suddenly very sleepy. Sayid kissed me on the back of the neck and whispered, "Let the danger begin."


	12. Guard Down

It was an uneventful day, for once. I'd talked Sayid into lounging around for a lazy day. I don't know if Iraqis didn't believe in doing nothing for an entire day, or if it was his military experience. It was hard to get him to sit down and relax. We'd walked about a mile down the beach and found a little peace and quiet.

"Sand. Sun. How can you not love it?" I said. "All I'm missing is a pina colada." I paused. "And a Cosmo. Magazine, not the drink." I rolled over onto my stomach and hoped that when rescuers came, I'd have a nice tan.

"I've had more than my fair share of sun and sand," Sayid said, raising an eyebrow. "But I could use a drink."

"Oh, right, forgot about that desert thing," I said, brushing sand off of my bare stomach. "Well, there's an ocean here. And beautiful girls."

"Beautiful girl." Sayid was lying on his back with his hands beneath his head. He opened an eye and squinted at me. "Just one."

"So let me ask you," I said as I propped myself up on my forearms. "What is this?"

"What is what?" He yawned widely.

"This. Us." I bit my lip. I'd expected a warmer reaction, or at least interest. The only move the man had made was to wiggle his shoulders slightly to get more comfortable. No delighted smile. No endearing wink.

"What would you like us to be?" Sayid asked, not even opening an eye.

I rolled my eyes. Ugnh. "If you don't care, then nothing." Before I could roll over and get up, he responded.

"I figured that it was understood that I am yours. I didn't know we needed to hash it out. I've told the others you are my girlfriend." Finally, he looked over and grinned. "I can see why you're so worried. There are so many eligible women on this island. There's Kate," he paused. "She's seeing Jack. Or Sawyer. Or both. There's Rose, married. Sun, married. Hmm. Claire's with Charlie." Sayid laughed.

I tossed a handful of sand at him. "Ugh."

"Once more and I'll have to consider it an act of war. Retaliation will be swift and merciless."

When the second handful of sand rained down on his face, I was already scrambling towards the water, laughing like a mad woman. It was a matter of seconds before he picked me up from behind and jumped sideways into the water.

I sputtered and laughed, wiping water from my eyes. "Hey!"

"All is fair in love and war," Sayid said, laughing and splashing me.

"This is so cliché," I said. "All of it."

"Being stranded on a magical Island? Oh, absolutely." Sayid brushed his hair out of his face. "I thought you were mad at me five seconds ago, now this?" He kissed me on the top of the head. "I see how this is going to be."

"Tell me I'm a bird," I laughed, running along the surf and flapping my arms up and down. "Say it!"

"I, what?" Sayid stared at me and completely missed the reference. "A bird?"

I waved the reference away. "It's a chick flick. I was going full cliché."

"Hey, Red, Mohammed," a voice came from down the beach. "Quit screwing around. We've got a serious problem." Sawyer looked like he'd been running through the jungle.

"What is it?" Sayid called. He splashed through the water back towards the beach.

"The Others are coming for the women, trying to figure out if they're pregnant. That's what Rousseau said." Sawyer grimaced.

"Which women?" Sayid asked. He reached out and rested his hand on my hip. I assumed the move was instinctual just to make sure I was there and safe.

Sawyer glanced at me and then shook his head. "Sun. Kate. Claire." He paused, then nodded towards me. "Red."

Sayid gritted his teeth and walked back to our blanket. He shook it out vigorously.

"What, no plan?" Sawyer followed him. "I thought you'd know what to do. I'm tired of following Jack around. Tired of him being dictator."

Sayid sighed. "They'll be armed. We need the guns. We need to get the women somewhere safe." He put his shirt back on and shook his head. "How do we defend ourselves against a group that knows the island, knows everything about us?"

I quickly pulled my clothes on over my wet swim suit. "I can help. I'm handy with a gun."

The men stopped and stared at me.

"Bull." Sawyer shook the hair back from his eyes. "I thought you were a writer."

"A military writer," Sayid said slowly. "Why didn't I think of that?"

I grinned proudly.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean," Sawyer said. "This isn't some of that 'pen is mightier than the sword' garbage, is it?"

"No," I said. "I had weapons training. You can't just send someone into a combat zone and hope for the best. No one wants to baby sit a writer."

With that, we started our trek back towards camp, each mulling over the scenario in our heads.

A whizzing sound came from somewhere, and I looked around for the source. A sudden prick in my neck stung fiercely. I reached up and felt a dart of some sort. I felt paralyzed and subsequently fell flat on my face.

"Shit," I heard Sawyer's voice come, then another thud.

"Anya," Sayid said as he reached for me, crouching low. He picked me up, flung me over his shoulder, and tried to run low to the ground. Another whizzing sound filled the air and Sayid's knees buckled. I felt myself tumble into the sand. I glanced over. Sayid was frantically fumbling in the sand, looking for my hand. He found it and squeezed it tight. That's all I remember.


	13. Ethan

_Author note: Don't worry! I'm still around. There was an unexpected death in the family a few weeks ago, but now things have settled down. Back to the story. . ._

I came to when a bright light flipped on. I jerked myself awake and found that I was sitting upright, strapped to a chair in front of a table.

"Hello, Anya." A man was sitting before me. I immediately recognized him as Henry, one of the Others we had captured. He'd escaped, but now here he was.

"You." I pulled at the straps, but they held tight. "Henry."

"Please, it's actually Ben." He smiled. "Two times you've slipped away from us, always getting rescued by someone." Ben calmly folded his hands on the table and smiled. "We had to get those men out of the way. Your body guards, the ones that always seem to be within arm's reach of you. Jarrah and Ford."

"Where?" I forced myself to sound confident and unafraid. "Where are they?"

"That's a question you don't get to ask," Ben said. "I'm sorry for that, Anya. Now, tell me, that's a very pretty name. It sounds Russian."

"Yes," I said quickly. "My mother is Russian. Now where are they?"

Ben sat back in his chair with a look of mild annoyance smeared on his face. "I can see we'll clearly get nothing accomplished with you worrying about your friends." He nodded to the man at the door, who walked over and grabbed me by the cuffs.

"Let's go," he said gruffly.

"Easy," Ben said quickly. "She needs to be in good health. Don't be too rough with her." I threw him a puzzled look, and he smiled in response. "No worries, Anya. You're perfectly safe."

A few minutes later, I was being led through the compound. My escort kept a hand on my arm, and Ben tagged along aloofly behind us. Their camp looked like some sort of a city, complete with normal-looking houses and a playground. I couldn't fathom what part of the island I was on. How could this just be tucked away without us having found it?

"Maybe if you're good, we'll let you sleep in a real bed with a real pillow. Doesn't that sound nice?" The man laughed. "But I will say we're all pretty impressed by your camp. Shabby, but functional."

I refused to reply. We turned around a corner and before me loomed two giant cages. It looked like there used to be a zoo there.

"There, Anya, you see?"

Inside the cages, I could see the bodies of two men. "Oh," I cried out. I pulled away from my escort and ran to the cages. My cuffs clanged against the iron bars as I threw myself at it. "Oh, please, be alive. Wake up."

Sawyer rolled over and came to. "Red, that you?"

I sighed in relief and hurried to the other cage. "Sayid," I called. "Sayid, wake up. Please. Get up."

Sayid didn't move.

"What'd you do?" I cried, turning around and finding myself chest to chest with my escort. I pounded my fists on his chest, the cuffs digging into my wrists. "What did you do to him?" My voice steadily rose in pitch and volume, and suddenly, I was screaming. "Why are they in cages? Why were they knocked out? What are you doing?" My voice broke and I cried aloud. "Sayid!"

"Anya, please, you need to stay calm." Ben raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "The stress isn't good for your health. Now, I thought we agreed that if you saw that your friends were alive and well, you would cooperate."

"Don't tell them anything, Red," Sawyer's voice came. "Don't you let them do anything to you. Fight."

I looked over. His face was swollen and he'd clearly been beat up. Bruising on his knuckles made me feel a bit better. I hoped he'd knocked someone out in return.  
"Sawyer," I said in reply. I didn't know what to say, how much to reveal. Suddenly, I felt very sleepy. I staggered a bit and Ben caught me by the waist.

"I told you not to get too worked up," Ben said. "That's why there were sedatives in the water you drank earlier. You looked like a fighter."

"Anya," a soft voice came from behind me. I craned my head to see Sayid coming to.

I staggered toward the cage. It was getting hard to keep my eyelids open. I moaned and tried to stand, but blackness took me.  
* * *

I'd been in the Others' compound for days. I did my best to keep tabs on Sayid and Sawyer. They were being kept in cages, forced to do manual labor, but otherwise, they were okay.

A man named Ethan had been performing medical tests on me. He'd collected blood, given me injections, and had honestly been pretty pleasant. He said these were the same tests he'd done to Claire, who _had _returned to our camp in perfect health. I couldn't decide if I trusted Ethan's word or not, but I felt okay so far.

I was being kept in solitary confinement in a room that looked like it could have been an aquarium of some sort. It was damp and cold, but I didn't spend much time in there. I'd just woken up when three knocks came from the door.

"Morning, Anya. I have all of your results back. Shall we discuss?" Ethan smiled. "I've got some breakfast waiting on the beach. No formal office appointments today."

I got up and nodded. Being compliant had kept me and the boys alive so far, so I figured it was a pretty good policy.

Ethan led me out to the beach, where a table was set up, complete with table cloth and flower arrangement in a vase.

"Lovely," I said, sitting down and immediately diving into the food. I had no suspicion about Ethan any longer. He was almost unnecessarily careful with me. I doubted whether he'd put that much time and care in to working with me if he meant to poison me.

"Anya," Ethan said through a mouth of English muffin. "Your tests all came back great."

I popped a chunk of pineapple into my mouth. "Oh?"

He nodded. "Completely healthy, completely normal levels and numbers for every test I ran. You're virtually functioning at 100 percent, which is funny, considering your injuries from the plane crash."

I shrugged. "It's a magic island, I don't know." I forked a piece of French toast and ate it mercilessly. Powdered sugar rained onto the table.

Ethan chuckled. "Right. Well, we're actually going to let you go home."

I choked on my toast. "Home?"

"Well," Ethan quickly jumped in. "Your home on the island."

I swallowed and set my fork down. "The guys?"

Ethan made a face. "Hmm."

"I won't go without them." I stood up quickly, knocking my chair over into the sand. My heart beat faster.

Shaking his head, Ethan said, "Anya, I'm so sorry. That's above me. If it were up to me, I'd let them go with you. The only reason they're here is because," he paused. "Well, they've been sort of like your personal bodyguards. When Jarrah isn't with you, somehow Ford stumbles up and is at your side. It's like they have a system set up." He smiled. "You've got good friends, Miss Anya."

"So let them go. If they're no good to you, let them come too."

Ethan looked down the beach. There were no guards. He sighed. "I can't. If I let them go, well, they both have violent tendencies."

"No," I said. "No, if you just… accidentally drop a key or something, I can let them out. Then it wouldn't be your fault. And I'll make sure no one gets hurt. Please."

"Anya, I'm just doing this because you're a wonderful young woman and I trust you'll do me a favor in the future if I need one. Now, hit me." Ethan leaned forward and closed his eyes.

"What?" I tilted my head and stared at him.

"You hit me and took my keys, but I'll tell them that's all right because I was going to release you today anyway. Hit me."

I closed my eyes and punched. My fist made contact with something that felt like a nose. There was a sickening crunch. "I'm sorry!" I immediately squeaked. "I'm sorry."

Ethan groaned, then took the keys from his pocket. "You stole these, now hurry. Patrol won't swing by the cages until 10 o'clock."

"Thank you," I called over my shoulder as I took off for the cages. "I owe you one!"


	14. The Opportune Moment

It was turning out to be much easier than I'd been expecting. Ethan's keys sat safetly in my back pocket as I lurked around in the jungle all day. As the sun set, I crept towards the cages where Sayid and Sawyer were being held. I climbed into a soft-looking bush and nestled in.

"Get in there," one of the guards said, giving Sawyer a shove. "Good job today, Ford. Maybe less chit chat tomorrow, and you'll get a water break."

"Son of a bitch," Sawyer growled as his cage door was slammed shut.

The guards locked the cages, then strolled off toward the cluster of cheery yellow houses.

"I'm sleeping in tomorrow," one of the men laughed to the other. "Ben's on the other island for a while. Forget this noise. Eight sound okay to you?"

"Hell yes," the other agreed. I watched them disappear. It'd be wreckless to charge out there now, in case the guards forgot something and had to run back. I stayed put for the time being. Meanwhile, the men were chatting idly.

"Damn," Sawyer groaned. "That manual labor's a bitch."

Sayid chuckled.

"What, you tellin' me you did that stuff in Iraq?"

"Not breaking rocks for no reason." Sayid was leaning back against his cage. He wiped his brow and sighed. Then he turned and gazed out into the jungle, just past where I was hiding.

"What're we gonna do to get outta here?" Sawyer stood up and clutched his cell bars. "You can't tell me you're sitting there enjoying the luxuries of your cage."

I expected a guard to show up as their voises rose, but no one did. I held tight for a few more minutes, not wanting to mess everything up. Ethan must have worked things out so that it seemed like he released me the right way, and without his keys in tow.

"I don't have a plan right now. I don't know." Sayid was rubbing his temple and frowning. "I've been thinking and I just don't know. We don't know what part of the island we're on. We don't know where they're keeping Anya. We don't know what they mean to do with us. It's too risky."

"Hell, we don't even know if Anya's still alive," Sawyer said. "We ain't gonna find out by sitting here." He jumped up and started to climb the side of the cage.  
I figured there was no better time to bust them out.

"Stop, stop!" I hissed. "I'm here. Be quiet." I rushed over and unlocked the cage. Sawyer dropped to the ground and stared at me. "Speak of the devil. Where the hell've you been, Red?"

I grinned. Sayid had popped up to his feet and was standing at the gate. "Are you all right?"

I unlocked his cage. "I'm fine. We have to go."

Sayid gave me the once-over before we all started back for the trees. "You're not hurt?"

"No. They were doing medical tests and stuff. Nothing bad." I ducked under branches and pushed vines aside. I tripped over something and landed on my face.

"Hey," Sawyer's voice came.

I heard a rifle cock. I rolled over and stared. They caught us.

"Who are you guys?" A teenaged girl was pointing the gun at us. A look of recognition washed over her young face. "You're the prisoners!"

The men put their hands up. I scrambled to my feet.

"I stole Ethan's keys," I fumbled. I held up the keys and tossed them to her. "Ethan said I could go home, and they only took these guys because they wanted me. But now they're done with me, so we're going." I nodded. "It's okay."

The girl put her gun down. "I can help you get back to your island."

We stared at her.

"Our island?" Sayid tilted his head. "And ain't you one of them?"

"Not exactly. And this isn't your island. Come on, a patrol comes through here in a few hours and you definitely want to be on the water before they know you're gone." The girl whirled around and started her way through the brush. "My name's Alex, by the way."

"Nice to meetcha," Sawyer said. He looked back at us and gave a grimace. We got what he meant. How did we know who to trust?

After an hour, we were at a beach. Alex had a boat stashed away. Turns out Ben was her father, and she didn't exactly agree with him.

"Take this boat, go back to your island." She helped push it toward the ocean. "They shouldn't notice they're gone for a while."

"What're you going to do without a boat?" I paused. "If it's bad here, you can come with us. We don't have houses or electricity, but there's room." I realized how awful that invitation sounded. "Or you could come with us, then take the boat back after."

Alex smiled sadly. "They're holding my boyfriend here somewhere. I can't leave without him."

"Thank you, Alex," Sayid said. He threw his pack into the boat. "Let's go."

"We owe you one. I'll find a way to repay you," I called as we pushed off.

"If you see a boy my age named Carl, repay me by helping him out if he needs it!" Alex called, waving.


	15. The Black Smoke

Life on our island was getting hectic. There was always some new feud with the Others. Someone was always lost or captured or hurt. We found survivors from the tail section of the plane. Most of them had already met their untimely demise.

Everyone welcomed us back like heroes. I'd spent a few evenings with Claire discussing Ethan. She didn't remember much, but what she did remember was the same as my experience: Ethan being unnecessarily careful and accommodating. Baby Aaron seemed normal, so we figured whatever Ethan's intentions were, were pure and medical.

Sawyer and I had become close after I saved him from the cages. He reminded me a bit of my brother, and I liked that. Never mind that awkward kiss he'd tricked me into. It was good to have friends.

I was spending an afternoon on the beach, tanning as usual. When you're stuck on an island with nothing else to do, it was relaxing. Sayid kept joking that I was trying to catch up with him. My tanning partner Shannon had bit the dust long ago, and Kate was acting pretty angsty lately, what with her love triangle with Jack and Sawyer. Instead of my girlfriends, Sawyer was propped up against a wadded-up towel, reading next to me. We'd trekked a mile or two down from camp, just to get away from the questions about the Others' and their mysterious town and the other island.

"You read Poe?"

I opened an eye. "Of course. Pit and the Pendulum is glorious."

"What kind of sicko writes this stuff?" Sawyer let the book in his hand fall to the sand. "Disturbing."

I shrugged. "I like it."

"Yeah, and you like a torturer," Sawyer snorted. He threw his hands behind his head.

I smacked him in the side. "Knock it off. Besides, not like your literary choices are plentiful."

"So, Red," he said after a pause. "What're you going to do when we get off this island? Going back to work for the Army?"

"We're going to be so rich, none of us are going to have to work." I stretched my hands above my head. "No more eating sand for me!" I realized the irony of that statement as my fingers brushed the sand beneath me. "You know, desert sand."

Sawyer chuckled. "I'm going to buy me a big house, get a dog, and a big TV."

"I just want a little house, but I want the best and most colorful of everything in it. And lots of shoes. And a big fancy dog bed for my Great Dane."

"No swimming pool? You sound like a swimming pool girl. Get yourself a hot cabana boy, shoot. Oceanic's gonna set us up real nice." Sawyer sat up. "Man, we need to figure out a way out of here. I'm sick of being stuck on this rock, and I want a damn Jacuzzi on my back porch. Ain't nothin' here for me."

I raised an eyebrow. "I heard Kate gave you a pretty wonderful homecoming."

"Shut up," Sawyer said. "That ain't none of your business. Who'd you hear that from, anyway? Can't anyone have a damn secret?"

"Everything here is everyone else's business. So, that why you and the Doctor don't get along?"

He didn't have to answer. Suddenly, a mechanical growling came from the jungle behind us. We jumped up. Our heads whipped back and forth, looking for any cover. There was nothing; no boulders, no shelters. Trees were being uprooted and tossed about like they were twigs. Sawyer and I took a few steps this way, then that way. We danced on the spot, trying to figure out what to do. Suddenly, a cloud of black smoke burst through the jungle and headed straight for us.

"The water, get in the water!"

We dashed towards the water and dove in. I felt my head break the surface. I turned back to face the jungle and was faced with the pillar of smoke. Before I could scream, I was being pulled up. Somehow, the smoke pulled me out of the water and held me a few feet from the ground. I thought about screaming, but couldn't bring myself to do _anything. _I couldn't feel anything holding me up, but I couldn't move my arms or legs. Whatever this thing was, was evil.

"Red," Sawyer said, standing up in the water. "Hang on."

The smoke was a confusing cloud, with lightening flashing within. I felt like it was staring at me, as bizarre as that sounds. Suddenly, it dropped me back onto the sand and retreated back into the jungle.

Sawyer knelt beside me. "You okay, Red?"

I nodded and tried to quit shaking. "What the hell was that thing?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." He grimaced. "This is going to sound weird, but was that thing looking at you?"

"Yeah," I breathed. "It feels like it. Feels like it was looking _through _me." I shuddered.

Sawyer grabbed me by the elbow. "Let's go, we're going back to camp."

"No one else heard that?" I said, staring down the beach.

"I guess not." Sawyer looked over his shoulder. "Maybe we should keep this to ourselves."

I nodded. "No use making everyone worry."


	16. All Is Fair in Love and War

It started innocently enough, then snowballed into a huge argument including everything but the kitchen sink. The bright, clear morning was spoiled by our screaming.

"You don't even listen to me," I called after Sayid, who was storming off down the beach. Who knows what the argument had even started out as. It had taken off in an ugly direction, and we were both livid.

Sayid paused, then stormed back toward me. "I don't listen to you? I do everything you prefer. You don't want me to go along on search parties because it's dangerous? Fine. I don't. You don't want me to hunt with Locke? Okay, understandable. The man is crazy. When haven't I listened to you? Name one time."

People were poking their heads out from their shelters, absolutely baffled at what was going on. We were apparently the "good couple" that got along and didn't argue like everyone else. The Island had a funny way of driving people apart, pushing people together, and generally wreaking havoc on relationships. It had pushed us together, now it was testing us.

"That's not it," I screeched. "It's the unimportant things that are really important. You don't listen when I'm just talking about whatever. Oh my God, you don't even care right now."

"Yes, Anya, that's right," Sayid said, throwing his head back and laughing. "I don't care about you. That's why I pulled you out of the burning plane. Perhaps you don't remember that."

I scowled. "I never asked you to. I didn't tell you to always come running through the jungle after me. You should have just let them take me away, that'd be much better than having to put up with you!"

"Maybe I should have!"

"Good!"

"Fine!"

"Ahem?"

We were toe to toe, screaming at each other. A small crowd had gathered about fifteen feet away. Claire had stepped forward, cradling Aaron in her arms.  
I suddenly felt very stupid. I felt my cheeks turn bright red. Way to cause a scene in front of the neighbors.

"You shouldn't fight, you know." Claire walked closer to us.

A knot formed in my stomach. I knew what she was going to say. Sayid had stepped back away from me and let his arms drop to his sides. He, too, looked like he felt guilty.

"I wouldn't have fought with Charlie so much if I'd have known what was going to happen." She sniffed and nodded. "You two are so good together. Just," Claire paused and looked down at Aaron. "Remember that, okay?"

"She's just such a pain in the ass sometimes." Sayid cracked a smile. He winked at me. Everyone laughed. "Claire's right. Anya," he motioned to me.

I pouted and shook my head. "No big romantic scenes. Not happening."

Before I knew it, he had me around the waist and pressed me to him. My annoyance finally broke into laughter. He kissed me deeply, his hands running over my body. "I think we have some making up to do."

* * *

A bit later, we were back in our shelter, wrapped up in each other. Sayid was tracing my collarbone with his fingers.

"I was going to do laundry this morning with Kate," I said lazily. "Oops." Rolling over, I kissed his chest. "You know, you're sort of sexy when you're yelling."

Sayid wasn't listening. "So what happens when we are off the Island?" He ran his fingers through my hair, being gentle with the knots. He kissed my shoulder. "Why were you headed back to L.A.?"

"Work," I said. "I was coming back to finish up my last article before taking a bit of a break from military life."

"What does this break entail?"

I shrugged. "I'm not sure yet. I wasn't sure when I signed my papers to be done with deployments and combat zones."

"I thought you were a contractor?" Sayid raised an eyebrow.

I sucked in a breath. "I may have told an untruth. You know how it is." I'd decided that on this Island, secrecy regarding my actual job was the best policy. Now, I'd blown it.

"Your outfit on the plane didn't exactly say 'military issue,'" Sayid said, raising an eyebrow. "Nor does your long hair and tattoos. Come, you're more than a writer. I've suspected that. Yet," he poked me in the arm. "Hardly a soldier."

I slapped his hand. "I don't need big man muscles, thank you very much." I sat up and stretched. Sayid traced the black ink on my ribs. "I wrote. I collected information here and there, but I really was a public relations specialist. They passed me off as a contractor so the soldiers felt they could open up to me more. Besides, if I looked like a soldier, do you think I could go undercover as easily? Anyway," I said, "they never had to worry about tattoos they can't see."

Sayid stared at me. "You're quite a mystery."

"So are you," I said. "Why were you going to L.A.?"

He seemed to hesitate for a moment. "I was going to visit an old friend from Iraq."

I nodded. "How long were you planning on staying?"

He shook his head. "I do not know."

We didn't speak for a few minutes. I think we'd both been expecting the other to have a sure set-in-stone plan that we could adjust to. Now, the possibilities were endless, and that was a bit daunting.

"Are you going back to Iraq?"

"No," Sayid quickly said. "There is nothing for me there."

"And what's for you in America?" I knew what answer I wanted to hear. I was terrified that I wasn't going to hear it.

"I thought it was one thing, but now I'm sure it's something different." He smiled. "How long will it take you to finish up your story?"

"Not long," I replied. "I just need to meet up with a man in L.A., then I can tie everything together."

Sayid made a face. "This isn't a story, is it? I've never heard anyone say anything about tying a story together. Tying a plot together, tying a lead of some sort, yes."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. I'll be honest, but keep it between us. I'm using that reporter ruse so that I can get information." I lowered my voice. "I'm after a Mr. Jarrah that lives in L.A. Formerly from Baghdad, now an American citizen. The higher-ups think he's got terrorist ties. _That_ will be my last assignment."

"Jarrah?"

I nodded. "Yeah, why?" It did feel good to get everything off my chest. I nestled myself back against Sayid and yawned. What he said next snapped me out of my cuddly state in an instant.

"Anya," Sayid said. "My name is Sayid Jarrah. I think my brother is your assignment."


	17. Purple

We hadn't spoken of my assignment since it first came to light that I was looking for information from Sayid's brother. Sayid was sure he wasn't involved with any terrorist groups, but understood my obligation to interview him anyway. If nothing else, I'd have a story about an immigrant adapting to life in America. Swell.

A few days later, Kate and I were rinsing out clothes when we heard him.

"Anya! Anya!" It sounded urgent, and it must have been. Sayid came crashing through the treeline and didn't stop running until he reached us. He looked thrilled about something.

"Is everything okay?" Kate asked. She dropped the shirt she'd been scrubbing and stood up. "Is someone hurt?"

He shook his head and caught his breath. "No. There's a submarine on the island."

Our jaws dropped.

"Locke's going to try and blow it up," Sayid said. "We need to get there first. We need to take it. We can go for help, then send a rescue party for the others."

I nodded. "Who's going to pilot it? Can you?"

Sayid shook his head. "No, but the pilot will be on board. We can hijack the sub and get off of the Island."

Kate didn't seem very excited.

"Kate, aren't you listening? Why aren't you excited? A sub! We can get off the island!" I exclaimed, grabbing her arm and giving it a shake. "What's wrong?"

"I," Kate paused. "Nothing. I'm really glad. You guys can go for help. I'll stay here and make sure the Others situation is safe. Can't be too outnumbered, you know."  
She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Well, I should go hang these to dry." With that, Kate hauled her load of clothes off down the beach.

"That's strange," Sayid said, watching her walk away. "Why wouldn't she want to get off the island?"

I shrugged. "I have no idea." I turned to him. "When are we leaving?"

Sayid chuckled. "No questions about where the sub is, how dangerous it will be to get to it, nothing?"

I shook my head. "I figure you've gotten me out of other trouble before, this should be nothing." After a moment, my excitement faded a bit. "Who else knows about this?"

"No one. If word gets out, there will be a panic, and it'll be impossible to get on the sub at all. Everyone will want to go, and I doubt there's enough room."

I frowned. "We'll send help back."

He nodded. With that, we raced towards the mysterious dock.

* * *

When we got there, we were shocked to find the sub completely unguarded. Something had drawn the Others out. We were crouched in the brush.

"We're clear," Sayid said cautiously. "Stay behind me, stay low to the ground." He pushed something cold into my hand.

"A pistol?" I whispered. "I prefer rifles."

"Because those are so much more convenient to carry," he hissed back. "Let's go."

Before we could move out of the leaves, someone came casually walking by – someone we'd been hoping to beat there. John Locke. I held my breath. Locke had a backpack, and seemed eerily calm.

"Do we shoot him?" I asked, raising my gun.

Sayid quickly lowered my gun. "No." Then, he stood up and tucked his gun into his waistband. "Locke, what brings you out here?"

Locke turned quickly, startled. "Oh, hello there, Sayid." He smiled and raised a hand in greeting. "Just stretching my legs. How about you?"

Sayid shrugged and walked towards him. "I guess you could say the same thing."

"I know Anya's with you," Locke said. "She's not at camp, she's not with Kate or Sawyer, and that only leaves on explanation."

"She is not my shadow," Sayid laughed. "She is not with me."

"Maybe she's in those bushes you just walked out from," Locke said, pointing directly towards me.

I groaned and stood up. "You've got me. We just wanted to get away from everyone for the day."

Lock laughed and shook his head. "You're going to try to leave."

"John, we know what you're going to do. Let us take the submarine." Sayid took a few steps forward.

"That's not what the Island wants. That's not what's supposed to happen," Locke said. He smiled sadly. "The sub has to go. That's just the way it has to be. I'm sorry, but I can't let you leave."

"What's it matter to you? We're sending help back." I joined Sayid. He subconsciously grabbed my arm and gently pushed me slightly behind him.

"Anya, remember what I said. It's not good for you to be with him." Locke frowned. "I don't want to be proven right. I wish you'd just believe me. What's it going to take? Bad things will happen if you two stay together, and if you leave this Island. I can stop one of those from happening for sure, and I'll make sure you aren't together if you make me."

"Are you going to kill me, John?" I'd been in a few life or death situations before, unarmed, with nothing but my words to get me out alive. I'd obviously been successful so far, but on the Island, there were no rules. Plus, this time, I had a gun.

Locke paced back and forth, jostling the dynamite in his backpack all the while. I held my breath and reached for my pistol.

"No, no, Anya. I'm not going to kill you. I want you to make the right choice." He set down his pack and held up his hands. "Are you going to kill me?" He nodded towards my arm, which was reached back towards my gun.

"Maybe, if you don't get away from the bag and let us get on the sub." I grabbed the gun and aimed at Locke's shoulder. I wasn't convinced that I wanted to kill the man if he did something stupid, but I couldn't trust that he wouldn't throw the pack of dynamite in after we got in the sub.

"Okay," he said. "You go. But when something bad happens, you can't say I didn't warn you." He sat down on the pack and put his chin in his hands.

Sayid dropped down into the sub first. I carefully navigated the ladder, but paused to take one last look at the island. Suddenly, the sky began to fade into purple and a supersonic vibration and screeching filled the air.

I watched Locke as he doubled over, clutching his head. I felt his pain. My head felt like it was going to explode. In about thirty seconds, it ended. That was enough for me. I ducked into the sub and Sayid sealed the door shut. We exchanged a puzzled look, then carried on.

"I'd say now is a prime time to get out of here," he said. "We'll find the pilot, he's got to be in here."

I sat down on the floor and cradled my head in my hands. It still felt funny. It felt like my head was going to split open, right down the middle. I groaned, unable to speak. I rocked back and forth, trying to combat the pain. This was terrible timing, but I couldn't bring myself to stand.

Sayid looked down to me. "Anya?" He dropped down and put his hand on my back. "What's wrong?"

I exhaled and cried out as my head continued to throb.

"Jack's a long way away," Sayid mumbled, fear rising into his voice. "Anya, tell me what's wrong."

I whimpered as a bright flash filled the sub. I reached out for Sayid, thinking his touch would calm me down. But suddenly, Sayid wasn't there.


	18. Deja Vu

As a matter of fact, I was no longer on the sub at all. I was back on the beach. My heart stopped, then thudded out of rhythm for a moment. I feel like my brain did the same. Had I hallucinated the whole thing? I stumbled forward. Where was camp? Was the idea of a submarine and the subsequent plot from Locke trying to destroy it actually just a dream? I looked down. Sayid had given me his scarf earlier as we trekked to the sub, saying it was too hot to mess with it. I tied it around my wrist, still. I wracked my brain, trying to make sense of the situation.

That's when I heard a mechanical whirring. A helicopter! I turned around and saw the wreckage of a plane on the beach. I froze. People were running to and fro, carrying bodies, carrying luggage, carrying scraps of metal. I ran towards the plane to help.

"You're going the wrong way," a voice came. "Get back! It's gonna blow."

I froze. It was Boone, running toward me, waving me back. He'd been dead for over a month. This must be the crash of Oceanic Flight 815.

"Okay," I managed. But I didn't move. This was a hallucination. That purple flash fried my brain. Now I was hallucinating. Sayid was probably running for Jack. I was just scared and hallucinating on the floor of the sub. I wondered if there were any herbs on the Island that could help mental illnesses.

"Please, help me!" someone from the water called.

I spun around, trying to decide what to do. Was this even real? I wandered toward the wreckage, figuring I should help. Maybe this was a test from the Universe, or the Island, and I needed to save people or some cosmic garbage.

I knelt down to check on an unconscious man, who would wake up the next day and be fine. Was that cheating, since I knew he'd be fine anyway?

I heard metal groaning. I looked over and saw the fuselage burning and warping in the heat. Out of nowhere, someone hurdled over me and headed straight for the plane. I watched in horror as Sayid headed right into the flames. I stood up, realizing what I was watching. Thirty seconds later, he emerged from the wreckage with a body flung over his shoulder. I realized the body was me. He'd just cleared the wreckage when the fuselage collapsed. He and I tumbled into the sand. My body lay crumpled and bloody. I doubt I would have given me a second look, but Sayid once again flung my body over his shoulder and made his way towards where Jack was starting to check up on patients.

I shivered and put my head down so no one could see my face and recognize me as the girl the Arab just saved.

"Hey, is she alive? Is she okay?" Charlie's voice came.

My heart ached a bit, hearing the voices of people that would soon meet their end. I wanted to go talk to them, to hug them, but knew whatever was happening, that probably wasn't a good idea. I sat down in the sand, put my head in my arms, and waited to wake up.

"'scuse me," a soldier said, bumping past me.

I'd put my head down a second ago. Now I was back on base Down Under. I laughed, finding that a better option than crying. I was losing my mind. There was no other explanation. I was tired of being on the Island, so I was dreaming myself to other places in time. I just hoped Jack had been at camp, and he was hurrying back with Sayid now. I wondered if Sayid had found anyone on the sub, or if I was in danger.

"Ma'am?"

I realized I was sitting at a table near the runway, my pad in front of me, and pen in hand. An American soldier was sitting across from me.

"Ma'am, I," he shook his head. "You all right? Maybe you should head to Medical. You don't look so good."

I smiled and shook my head. "No, no, I'm okay. Uh, now where were we?" I looked down to my note pad.

"We were just talking Iraq," he said, studying me. "Ma'am, you really don't seem well."

I nodded. "Yeah. I might go lie down."


	19. Freeze Frame

**19. Freeze Frame**  
I don't know the last time I'd slept. I wasn't sure how long I'd been away from the sub, or how long I'd been flashing through time. I realized that I must be time traveling, or memory traveling, or something. This was no hallucination. Pain hurt. I got hungry. Every time I flashed to a different place, my brain hurt a little more than the time before. I was beyond confused and felt myself losing control.

Now, I'd landed back on the Island, in our camp. I hid in my shelter, worried that I would come back and discover myself. It hurt to think about and try to understand. Someone rapped on my bamboo frame. Hoping it was Kate or someone understanding, I stood to greet them. Then I realized it could be someone who'd ask too many questions and get suspicious, like Jack. "Hello? I timidly chirped, trying to sound welcoming. "I'm home!"

Locke popped his head in. "I thought I saw you come in here, which seems pretty impossible, because I saw you get on a submarine and take off just an hour ago." He stared at me, palm resting on the knife in his belt. Yet he didn't sound angry.

I shook my head. "I don't, I," I paused. I had no story for why I was suddenly magically reappearing back on the Island. Plot points swirled in my head. Say I changed my mind. Say the sub blew up. No, that wouldn't work. Sayid kicked me out. The pilot took Sayid hostage. Locke had been hallucinating. None of them seemed good enough, and the seconds were ticking by. I stood there, my lips pressed together.

"It was that flash, wasn't it?" Locke laughed. "Well, lucky for you, Ben just taught me something." When I didn't reply, he cleared his throat. "You should be more excited, Anya. This something will make whatever's happening to you, stop."

****

I trekked behind Locke, hoping I didn't flash away before he did whatever it was he thought he could do. At this point, I was expecting to drop dead, wake up, fall asleep, or flash away before we got to see what his idea would do. At this point, there were no impossibilities.

"You know Anya," Locke called over his shoulder, "I warned you."

"You warned me about what?" I paused. Had he known this was going to happen?

"The Island clearly doesn't want you leaving with Sayid." He glanced back at me. "So what did it do? It stopped you. I hate to say I told you so, but I tried warning you."

"No, what's happening is whatever that freak purple sky meant, well, it fried my brain or something, okay?" I snapped back. I wasn't sure if I could trust him. Locke was a little crazy, but at this point, what wouldn't I do to get back to normal, if there was a normal anymore?

We reached one of the old Dharma stations. "Ben just showed me this, so get excited. It could help you." Locke was beaming. He liked to be needed, and he liked to be the leader. He led me down, down, down into the building's basement, then we finally got onto an elevator and went even lower.

"You're not going to keep me down here like we did to Ben, are you? Is this some sort of payback?" I laughed, then stumbled, suddenly dizzy. I paused and caught my balance. My head was spinning.

"Anya, you okay?" Locke doubled back and leaned over, looking into my face.

"Yeah," I said, pressing my palms into my eyes and nodding. Please, let me just stay here. "Just a little lightheaded is all."

John held out a water bottle. I took it gratefully and slugged down every last drop.

"Okay," Locke said, nodding, obviously impressed.

"Ready. Do your thing."

"Grab anything metal and throw it into this space." He piled metal into what looked like an elevator shaft. Chairs, pairs of scissors, shelves. The banging sounds sent pulses of pain through my head.

I groaned and hauled a folding chair to the space, setting it down gingerly. "Why are we doing this, Locke?" I leaned back against a wall. Heat was radiating from my skin. I squirmed uncomfortably. Just another side effect of defying physics, I guess.

"You need to stand back, or maybe you should stand right in front of that." John paused, then tossed a table lamp into the shaft.

"Wait," I hissed. "You don't know what we're supposed to do?"

"That should be enough. Um, maybe just stay right where you are, right there." He gave me the 'halt' sign, then nodded. "I'm going to go into the other room and throw the switch. I," he paused. "I'm not exactly sure what'll happen, but Anya, it will work. You have to have faith! It'll work."

"John, you've lost your damn mind." I realized the irony as soon as I said it. He was the one traveling forward in time as he should be. _ I _was the one bouncing all over the place. Maybe I was the one who lost my mind.

"No, you need to trust me." John disappeared around a corner. "Here we go!" I heard him flip a switch. Nothing happened.

"Must be broken, John," I called. I took a step towards the metal pile just as it began buzzing, humming, and imploding.

**Mi Casa  
**  
I stood up and squinted into the light. I was still on the Island. There were palm trees and sand and not much else. I felt like sobbing. It hadn't worked.

I heard music from somewhere. Great. I was going crazy. I sighed, picked myself up off of the ground and wandered towards the music. It sounded like a ukulele. Maybe Charlie was still alive and had found another instrument. I wouldn't mind visiting all of my dead friends again. This time, I'd work up courage and talk to them.  
As I neared the music, I saw something in the distance, a billboard. I squinted. Couldn't be right. That's when I realized that I wasn't on the Island, at all. It was civilization. I started running, elation pulsing through my veins. The music gave way to human voices. It sounded like a party was going on. A large house loomed beyond a grove of trees. I felt like I was flying, my feet barely touching the ground. I had to get to help before I flashed again. I reached the trees and peeked out from behind them. I couldn't believe my eyes.

Hurley was talking to a short woman. It looked like a family gathering. I laughed and ran towards him. I crashed through the trees and ran into the back yard. Party-goers stared at me like I was crazy, and Hurley didn't look surprised to see me at all.

"Anya! Hey." He reached out and pulled me into a bear hug. "Good to see you finally."

The woman shuffled away, but continued watching me.

"Hurley, I'm here, really, I don't know how, but I'm here." I laughed so hard I cried. "I think I need help."

"I know." He handed me his plate of food. "Eat this."

"You know?" I popped an entire strawberry into my mouth, then another and another.

He nodded. "Charlie said you were coming. He said you'd been lost, but now you're found."

"Charlie is here?" I smiled. "Was he traveling through time, too?" Food felt good in my stomach. The thought of meeting Charlie warmed me.

Hurley frowned. "No, Dude. He's still dead."

That night, I sat cross-legged on Hurley's bed. We'd talked about everything that had happened since we'd been on the island. The Oceanic 6 had been rescued. Sayid was one of them. They had to lie so that no one would find the Island. Turns out a man named Charles Whidmore was searching for it, and was willing to destroy any human life to keep it quiet. It had been three years since I had disappeared.

Hurley was visited by spirits of the dead. It was our dead friends zwho helped him out and gave him clues on what to do. Boone and Charlie had both told him to be expecting me. I found it oddly comforting.

"So here's the cool thing," Hurley said. He was beaming. "The rest of the guys are going to be in L.A. tomorrow. If you don't magically disappear, you can totally come and meet up with everyone!"

My stomach did gymnastics. "Everyone?"

"Yeah, Dude." Hurley winked. "Sayid, too."

My heart joined in on the aerobics. "Will he remember me?"

Hurley laughed out loud. "Anya, you have no idea."


	20. Sink, Sank, Sunk

**20. Sink, Sank, Sunk**

_Oh my gosh! I'd been putting the finishing touches on this chapter when Fred80 asked about what happened in the sub. (; Great minds think alike!_

I dropped down into the sub and checked the room. It was clear. Hopefully we were right and only the pilot remained on board. I turned and looked up, where Anya had paused on the ladder. A great vibration traveled through the air. I gritted my teeth, but it was over quickly. Anya dropped into the sub and shrugged.

"I'd say now is a prime time to get out of here," I said. "We'll find the pilot, he's got to be in here." I cocked my pistol and started down the hallway. "Stay behind me, use your gun if you need to," I whispered. Anya didn't say anything. I turned to make sure she was behind me. But she was sitting on the floor, clutching her head in her hands. "Anya?" I hurried back to her and knelt down. "What's wrong?"

She couldn't speak. She was clutching at her head, and rocking back and forth.

I paused. This was our one chance to get off the Island, but Anya was clearly in pain. I couldn't risk her health just to leave the Island. "Jack's a long way away," I mumbled. "Anya, tell me what's wrong."

She cried out and reached for me. Suddenly, she was gone.

I jumped to my feet, blinking furiously. "Anya?" She was absolutely gone and missing from the sub. "Anya!" I spun around, looking for her. What the hell had just happened?

I heard footsteps from the hallway. I aimed the pistol and steadied myself. It must be Anya. I must have blacked out for a few moments, and Anya had gone somewhere for help.

But the pilot was thundering down the hallway, gun drawn. "Who the hell are you?" he commanded, cocking his gun and aiming at my head.

I didn't lower my gun. "Where is the girl?" I was surprised to hear the panic in my own voice.

The pilot stared at me. "There's no one on this sub but me, and you. How the hell did you get on here?"

"No," I spat. "The girl. She's tall, dark hair, where did she go?" I could feel my heart rate quicken. The man was telling the truth. He had no idea what I was talking about.

"Stay right there," the man said, reaching for his walkie talkie with his free hand.

I shot it off from his hip. "I was never here," I hissed. "If you see the girl, don't hurt her." I turned and scrambled back up the ladder. As soon as I hit the dock, the sub dipped below the surface. "No!" I called after it, fearing that Anya was still somehow on board.

"Where's she going, Sayid?" Locke was still watching after us.

"I don't know, John," I said. "She's not on the sub. Where did she go?"

Locke stared at me. "No, Sayid, I saw Anya get in the sub, and it just sailed away. You got off from the sub, and no Anya." He walked towards me. "Why don't you put the gun away, Sayid?"

I shook my head. "John, we don't have time for this. Where did she go? She must have gotten off when I wasn't looking. Her head hurt. She came up for air."  
I nodded frantically. "You must have seen her."

"I heard a single gunshot, and now you say you can't find Anya," Locke said, narrowing his eyes.

"John," I spat, drawing the gun. "You think I shot her? How about you help me find her, then you can decide."

"Hey," a voice came. It was Kate, who was always out looking for trouble. "You guys found the sub?"

"It just sailed away with Anya on it." Locke crossed his arms over his chest.

Kate looked puzzled. "But why are you here?" she asked, looking to me.

"I don't know," I said, putting my hand over my eyes. "She's gone. She was just gone. She dropped to the floor and was holding her head."

A look of understand washed over Locke's face. "I'll catch up with you guys later," he said before taking off through the jungle.

"Tell me if you see Anya," I called after him, not knowing that he'd be speaking with her in less than twenty minutes.

***  
Weeks later, I was on a chopper, leaning heavily against the frame, glancing back at the Island. Anya had disappeared without a trace. I'd combed the Island, searching for her, but there was nothing. No clues, no trails to follow.

Sun was screaming. A freighter had just blown up with Jin on it. Kate was holding Claire's baby, who was crying. Sawyer had just jumped from the helicopter, and Hurley was shouting after him. Jack looked strangely calm, and he winked at me. I turned away and looked back at the Island again. I felt heavy and listless. If I couldn't help Anya from on the Island, I'd hoped that I could help her from the real world.

A year had passed since I'd been on the Island. The fame of the Oceanic 6 hadn't dulled. People recognized me on the street, at the market. Women threw themselves at me, knowing the settlement was quite large. I turned them all away.

I'd gotten in touch with all of my contacts, Iraqi or American. The military knew Anya was missing, and I was surprised to find she was a high value agent. She'd never let on the importance of her assignment. Agents were combing the world for her. I'd stuck with our Oceanic 6 story, but added that I saw an Island in the distance, and that perhaps she made it to there in the plane crash.

One evening, I sat in my apartment, feeling more lonely than ever. It was a year to the day I left the Island. Perhaps it had been a bad choice. If I had stayed, I could have found Anya by now, perhaps.

Although I was in L.A. where I'd meant to be, it's as if my life before the Island had ceased. Nadia lived on the other side of town. The CIA, who had reached out to me in Iraq to tell me about her had reached out again once I had settled in L.A. They had promised her safety, and that's all I wanted. They urged me to contact her, hoping to fulfill their promise. But she was safe in America, and I wanted nothing more from her.

I poured myself a drink and sat heavily down in a chair in my living room. I pulled a picture out from my wallet. It was very worn and faded. It was a photo of Anya I'd gotten from her chief when I'd gone to her command. It didn't look like her, her cap pulled low over her face and her hair tucked away in her camouflage collar. But her smile was the same, coy and mischievous. Her eyes sparkled just the same as they had on the Island. I studied the picture, afraid I'd forget a detail of her face. It was ingrained in my memory, but I had moments where I couldn't remember exactly what shade Anya's skin was, or exactly how she sounded. And that frightened me.

"Where are you," I whispered. Sighing, I took a box from my jacket pocket and set it on the table, along with the picture. I took a drink. As I lowered the glass back to the coaster, the box was knocked out of the way. It fell to the floor and opened. A diamond ring sparkled in the light.

"Maybe tomorrow," I said, picking the ring up and putting it back in my jacket. No sense in losing hope.


	21. Suit and Tie

**21. Suit and Tie  
**  
"Maybe we could surprise the others," Hurley said on the drive to the restaurant we were meeting at. There was a party going on, and the Oceanic 6 were special guests. "You know," he said. "Surprise! Anya's not dead, or sucked into another dimension!"

I nodded. I jiggled my foot obsessively, anxious to see Sayid. What if he'd moved on? What if he forgotten about me?

"We're here, my lady!" Hurley called as he pulled his Hummer into the parking spot. "If anyone asks, maybe we should play it cool and say you're my date. You know, since you're supposed to be dead and all that." He nodded. "I'm rich. I could afford to pay a pretty girl like you to come out with me. They'll totally buy it."

I took Hurley's arm and let him lead me through the cameramen and security guards. Part of me worried that an officer would see me and recognize me as the military agent that went missing on the plane crash. I hoped my slightly haggard appearance disguised me enough.

"Hey, there's Sun!" Hurley waved to her.

Sun ran over. "Hurley!" She was in mid-hug when she saw me standing behind him. "Oh, hello," she said cautiously. Sun recognized me, but couldn't believe I was actually there. I could see that in her face. "You look so much like,"

"It's Anya," Hurley interrupted. "Surprise! Keep it quiet, we're going to surprise Sayid."

Sun squealed quietly and threw her arms around me. "We had no idea what happened to you," she said. "Where were you?" Her eyes were wide. "Were you with anyone else?"

I shook my head and watched her face fall. "It's only been a few days. I've been here and there, visiting times in my life. It started when the sky turned purple."

Sun stared at me, her eyes wide. "A few days? Anya, it has been three years for us." She looked over her shoulder, then stepped in and whispered. "Sayid has not been the same since you disappeared." Her lips were pressed together. "He even went to your funeral."

"My funeral?" I said. "Who held a funeral?" I hadn't thought the situation could get more jarring, but it did.

"Your family held it," Sun said softly. "None of us went besides Sayid. It'd be too obvious. You don't make friends with everyone you're on a plane with."

Hurley nodded. "Sayid told us he talked to your family and explained that you sat next to him on the plane. You yelled at some man for thinking Sayid was a terrorist?" Hurley smiled. "That's a true story, isn't it?"

I nodded. My stomach had knotted up at the thought of Sayid going to talk to my parents. I could only imagine what went through his head. Did he mention Tommy and Iraq? Of course not. I pushed that thought away. My poor parents. I never thought that they'd think I was dead.

"Look," Sun said, stepping directly in front of me. "Look past me. Sayid is here, talking to Jack."

Sayid was wearing a cream suit with his sunglasses on. He was arguing with Jack about something, but he was keeping his cool. He laughed and shook his head. I could hear him trying to explain something.

"I have to talk to him." My voice was breathy and I felt my knees grow weak. Civilization looked good on him.

"Whoa, I thought we were going to pop you out of somewhere and say 'surprise,'" Hurley said, looking deflated. "I guess if you don't want to, that's cool, too."

I pushed my way through the room, craving his touch. His smell. His voice. He turned and lowered his glasses as he saw me plow through the crowd.

"Anya," Jack exclaimed as I crashed toward them. "But you're," he paused. "What the hell is going on?" He turned to Hurley, who was behind me. "How did you, where did she come from?"

I ignored him and reached for Sayid. I grabbed fistfuls of his hair and pressed my hips against his. We fell back against a wall. He kissed me hungrily, like he hadn't seen me for years. "Darling," he mumbled into my lips. "Anya." He hugged me so tight I felt my back pop. I kissed his neck and pressed my cheek against his skin. I was sure we were making a scene, but I didn't care. I stood back and took his face in my hands. When I actually saw him, I was shocked. "You look so tired."

Sayid brushed hair back from my face. His hand shook slightly. "It's been three years. You disappeared. You were just gone." He kissed me again, this time, slowly and passionately. I let his strong arms keep me upright as I felt faint with delight.

"It's only been a few days. I was in the submarine with you a just a few days ago." I pulled his scarf off of my wrist. "It still smells like you."

He smiled and touched it. "Keep it." He pressed his lips to the top of my head and held me close. I could have stayed like that forever.

"Mr. Jarrah," a rogue reporter called. How she'd gotten in past the security guards was past me. "Who's your girlfriend? You've said repeatedly you had no intention of becoming romantically attached."

"Dude," Hurley said. "Long lost friend. Can't you tell they're having a moment?"

Jack was still staring at me, still flabbergasted. He looked a little on edge, and had a wild look in his eye that made me nervous.

"Come," Sayid said, leading me through the restaurant to a quiet lobby. "Darling, it's been three years." He looked misty-eyed. He kept a hand on me at all times, trying to make sure I was real. "I don't understand," he shook his head.

"I keep going through these flashes, like the one on the sub. They take me different places, different times. I never know where I'll go, or when." I shivered. "Where have I been the past three years? Did I skip them?"

"Anya," Sayid said, pulling me closer by my hips. He touched my lip, looking worried. "I didn't know where to search for you, I didn't know. I didn't know when to search." He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "I thought I'd lost my mind at first when you disappeared."

"When I was back on the Island," I said with a pause. "Locke did something in a station, and now I'm back in the real world, real-time, I guess. Usually I'd have flashed away long before now."

Sayid seemed distracted. "Anya," he whispered. He let go of me, and I was surprised. But a second later, I was even more surprised. He dropped to his knee and pulled a ring box from his jacket.

"I've wanted to do this every day for the past three years. I knew I'd find you." He smiled. "Now marry me."

I practically tackled him to the ground, laughing and squealing. He laughed as we kissed. The stupidly large smile on my face made it difficult to kiss him, so instead, I laughed like a maniac.

I heard applause. I looked up. Our friends had gathered in the doorway, clearly aware of what Sayid had been planning. (Later, Kate would say, "Oh my God, every time anyone brought you up, he swore he'd propose the second he saw you." They all believed him, and for good reason.) Sun was beaming next to Hurley. Aaron was slapping his hands together, just happy that everyone else was happy. Kate, who I still hadn't greeted, looked ecstatic. Jack, on the other hand, was dryly clapping his hands. Clap, clap. Obligatory celebration.

Sayid, flat on his back with me square on top of him, laughed aloud.

"Ahem," a voice came. A maître d' was standing behind the 6, arms crossed over his chest. "Excuse me," he said stuffily. "Our guests are awaiting their panel discussion, and dinner after that." He twirled about and stormed out.

I giggled and admired my ring, feeling Sayid watching at me.

"Who cares about a discussion, man, you think he's going to be able to hold himself together up there now?" Hurley said to no one in particular. He chuckled. "I think those two have other ideas on how to spend their night."

"I'll do it," Sayid said, not taking his eyes off of me. "Then we celebrate."


	22. Business is Booming

**22. Business is Booming  
**  
I awoke to the smell of coffee. I stretched, then burrowed back down into my pillows. Coffee wasn't my drink, anyway. As soon as I remembered where I was, I sat up quickly. Sayid! His spot in bed was empty. I grabbed his shirt, pulled it on, and buttoned a few buttons before padding out into the kitchen.

Sayid was sitting at the table, coffee in hand, reading the paper shirtless. He touched his finger to his tongue before turning the page. I watched him intently, wondering what it'd be like to miss him for three whole years.

"Hope you don't mind that I'm still here," I said.

Startled, he looked up. "You're up quite early. I thought you might want to sleep, considering the time travel and all that."

I shrugged. "It was lonely in there by myself." I moved my shoulders back and forth, trying to be seductive.

He chuckled and finished his coffee. "I'd love to join you, but I have one errand I have to run this morning." On his way to the sink with the coffee mug, he stopped and kissed me deeply. "Nice shirt."

I sighed dreamily when he pulled away. "Errand?"

Sayid cleared his throat and turned to the sink. As he rinsed out his mug, he spoke quietly. "I thought you had been on the Island for the past three years. Ben Linus found me and expressed concern that we weren't the only ones who knew about it. A man named Charles Whidmore has been hunting for the Island, too."

"Okay," I said, trying to comprehend what he was telling me. It was too early in the morning for serious discussions. "Is that bad? We _want_ people to find the Island to save the others."

"No," Sayid said. He turned to face me and leaned against the sink. "Whidmore wants to kill everyone on the Island to keep it a secret." He swallowed and took a breath. "That being said, and considering the fact I thought you were still on the Island, I started working for Ben."

"Ben?" I laughed. "No, I, he's a good guy? What _happened_ the last few years that I missed?"

"Ben found out who is working for Whidmore. He has a list of hired mercenaries that are bent on finding the Island and killing anyone they find. They're in it for the reward, which thanks to Whidmore, is pretty massive." Sayid looked uncomfortable, which was strange to me.

"Doll," I reached out and grabbed his hand. "Are you working as a hired gun?"

After a moment's hesitation, Sayid nodded. "Yes. I am."

I nodded, too. "Okay."

"That's all?" Surprise filled his eyes.

"What was I supposed to do?" I shrugged. I suppose it was a mindset from my days working for the Army. No one wanted to do the messy jobs, but the safety of the masses depended on it. Same thing. "It a job that needs to be done. If that's what it takes to protect our friends, fine. I want in."

"Absolutely not."

"I've done this kind of thing before. It's safer to work together."

Sayid laughed. "This is not something I am willing to bring you into. I just got you back. I won't risk you getting hurt or killed." He brushed past me.

Before he passed me, I snatched his wrist. "I'm working with you," I said. "You forget. I'm trained for this. Let me help you." I held fast to his wrist.

He sighed and stared at me. I could sense him thinking hard. "It _is _good to have a lookout."

I pouted. "I want to help, not have some dumb made-up assignment from you that we both know isn't necessary." I unbuttoned the top button of the shirt. "Maybe I can convince you some way to let me come along."

"Oh, you can come," Sayid said, spinning me around and directing me back toward the bedroom.  
***

Later that afternoon, I was sitting in the sunlight at an outdoor table at a café. I could smell the saltiness of the ocean, and wondered why anyone enjoyed the smell. It wasn't pleasant, but it was hard to complain in the beautiful weather and delicious seafood. I sipped idly on my sangria and opened a book.

"Miss, are you expecting anyone?"

I looked up, expecting a waiter. However, it was a young man. He had a genuine smile and looked eager.

"No, but I'd love if you joined me," I answered quickly, wanting to get him out of the way and out of danger. "Sit down, here, please." I smiled and quickly pulled out a chair.

The man grinned ear to ear and sat down. "I'm Brad," he said. "You look like," he paused. "Crystal."

I shook my head and tried to look past him. "No, try again. Starts with a 'C,' though."

"Charlie?"

I raised an eyebrow.

A moment later, a man wearing a suit was seated at a table away from me. I glanced at him and waited for the waiter to get out of my way. After quickly glancing at the photo I had pasted inside my book, I cleared my throat and sat back in my chair.

"If you'll excuse me, Brad, I think I know that man." I excused myself. I flipped my hair once and took another sip of sangria before walking over to him. Brad stared dumbly after me.

"Sir," I said, pausing at his table. "Do you have the time?"

"Oh, of course." The man had a British accent. He looked at his watch, then looked back up at me. "It's just about one o'clock."

"Dining with anyone?"

He shook his head. "I'm just killing time before I need to catch a boat. I'd love to dine with you, if you'd like. There's nothing like lunch with a beautiful woman before a long time at sea."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm afraid I can't. I'm with a friend over there." I smiled politely and moved back to my table. I took out my compact and acted like I was checking my makeup.

"So, uh, Corinne." Brad smiled. "Celeste? Cosette? Miss, I'd love if you just told me your name."

Out of nowhere, a bullet whizzed through the air and passed through the man in the suit's head.

Brad jumped up from his chair. "Holy crap."

"Oh my," I said. "I'd better go call 9-1-1." I threw cash down on the table and sauntered out as other diners rushed to the man's aid.

"Miss," a voice came as soon as I hit the street.

Sayid stood with his hand outstretched. He wore a sports jacket and aviator sunglasses. "Allow me to escort a lady." I took his hand, and he pulled me in. "You're sure that was him?"

I scoffed. "Of course it was him. Mr. Jarrah, you must trust my expertise."

"I don't love this, Anya," he murmured. "What would happen to you were he to catch on before I could get in place?"

"Doll," I said as we strolled along, "we're good. That's not going to happen." I smirked and looked over my shoulder, knowing that somewhere, Mr. Whidmore knew we'd struck again.


	23. Referee

23. **Referee  
**A few months had passed. Life back in the real world was wonderful. I'd met up with my family, and made them promise to keep my whereabouts on the down low. My parents were overjoyed to the point of fearing me at first, not believing I was alive. I stayed with them for a week, mostly de-stressing and taking time to decide what to do next. My older brother Josh handed my Great Dane Rocko back over, regretfully. "A small price to pay for my sister being alive again," he'd said.

Sayid and I had transformed his house into a beautiful home. Rocko bonded with Sayid quickly. On Saturday afternoons, they'd often go jogging together, and on Sunday mornings, nap in the living room, both somehow sharing the couch. Most days, we got up, had a long breakfast, and then pursued various hobbies. With the money from Oceanic, we'd never have to work again. It should have been the perfect life, but we were still wrapped up in working for Ben. The number on the list had dwindled drastically. We were a lethal duo. We never spoke about our work except for when we were leaving the house to take down a target.

The Oceanic 6 was gathering at a gala in L.A., a fundraiser of some sort, one night. The appearances had become fun, since no one knew me. I was simply Mr. Jarrah's fiancée, which was fine by me. When people I asked, I replied that I had been a bartender, now he insisted I didn't work. The military had finally written me off as dead, and I didn't worry about someone spotting me.

Sayid donned a suit and frowned at himself in the mirror. "Another gala. Another suit."

"Problem, doll?" I shimmied into a gown.

"No," he replied, walking over and kissing my shoulder. "I'd just rather keep the jeans on and go to a movie with you." He zipped up my dress and spun me around. "But you do look ravishing, and it's rather fun to show you off."

"Aw," I said. "Kissing up to get lucky tonight?" I winked before heading out to grab my purse. He followed me to the front door. I added, "Because it's working."  
Sayid chuckled and closed the door behind us.

***

"Hey, go say hello to your Auntie Anya!"

A blonde boy in a dapper little suit ran full speed towards me and plowed into my knees, throwing his arms around them and nearly toppling me over. "Aaron," I said with a laugh. "Don't you look fancy!"

"Yeah! Mom said I have to wear a suit 'cause it's a grown up party." He stood with a pout on his face as I laughed.

"All of the grown ups have to wear suits, too," Sayid said, kneeling down and picking Aaron up. Aaron quickly scrambled to sit on his shoulders, where he cried, "Mush!" Sayid laughed and took off, heading to find Hurley or Sun, the only other members of the 6 that he found tolerable. He usually spent his time avoiding Jack.

Kate elbowed me in the arm. "So, Mrs. Jarrah-"

"Oh," I interrupted. "Not yet."

Kate laughed. "What are you waiting for?"

"Uh," I paused. "Things to slow down."

The smile melted off her face. "Anya, are you still working for him?"

I nodded. "It's almost done."

"Anya, you can walk away from this," Kate had lowered her voice. "This can't be healthy. Why don't you two just settle in, start planning a big wedding, and have a family?" She nodded towards Aaron, bobbing above the crowd on Sayid's shoulders. "You don't think he wants that?" She grabbed my hands and squeezed. "Anya, it's over. The Island is over. You don't have to listen to Ben."

"Still at it, then?"

We both turned. It was Jack. He looked worse than the last time I saw him. He hadn't shaved in a month. His eyes were blood shot and he looked paranoid.

"Jack, no," Kate said, stepping up to him. "Not here."

He laughed, then suddenly grew angry and stuck his finger in my face. "Aren't you tired of this Bonnie and Clyde gig?" Jack shook his head in disgust. "I can't believe you're doing this, still, Anya. Sayid, yeah, I believe that. But not you."

"It needs to be done," I spat.

"We have to go back," Jack said. "We have to go back! How long are you going to keep killing these people?" He grabbed me by the shoulders. "Do you enjoy this? Do you really think you're helping anyone? This is how we help them! We get on a plane, all together, and we go back to the Island. It's the only way. That's how we help everyone." He shook me once. "Anya, you have to listen."

"Jack, no," Kate cried.

"Let go of me, Jack."

"You need to promise you'll come back with me. Anya, please, even if it's just a few of us, that's how we help." He was tearing up. He slung his arm around me and pulled me into an awkward one-armed hug. "Please, Anya, now." He whispered in my ear. "She left me. She won't come with me. I need you to come back to the Island."

Sayid appeared out of nowhere, passing Aaron back into Kate's arms. "Why don't you ask your mother to get you some punch, Aaron?"

"Yes, Mommy! Uncle Sayid said I had to ask permission first."

Kate nodded and quickly shielded Aaron. "Of course, baby. Let's go get you some punch."

Jack hadn't released his grip on me. Sayid grabbed Jack by the back of his collar and pulled him away, then gave him a shove. "Don't you touch her, Jack. You're lucky there are so many people here, and I'm feeling generous."

"No, Sayid, you don't get it. I've been trying to tell you. We have to go back. If you won't go, maybe Anya will go. She wants to help the others still on the Island." He nodded and looked towards me, a wild, desperate look on his face. "Anya, you never answered. Will you come with me? We can go tomorrow. We can go tonight!" He looked hopeful.

"You're not taking her anywhere." Sayid came nose to nose with Jack and snarled, "Just because you're delusional doesn't mean we have to play along." He turned and looked me over.

"I'm fine," I said softly.

Jack was stumbling away through the crowd toward the door. Sayid watched until he was out of sight. "Come, Sun and Hurley have a table saved for us with Kate."

***

After the gala, I grabbed a bitch beer out of the fridge and drew myself a hot bath. I sighed as I sank into the water. Rocko stretched out next to the tub.

"What do you think, baby? Should we keep doing this? Checking names off of Ben's list?"

Rocko's ears flicked towards me, but he didn't look up. He did sigh.

"So you want me to stop."

The dog sat up and licked my hand.

I groaned. "Okay, okay."

"You know, I used to think I played an important role in your decision making process."

I jumped. Water sloshed over the side of the tub, and Rocko growled as his paws got wet. "Quit sneaking up on me!"

Sayid laughed and petted the dog, who was looking at me with the mistrust of a thousand wronged lovers. Sayid sat on the edge of the spa. "So, you're out?"

Biting my lip in thought, I hesitated before nodding.

"Then we're out." A smile spread to his lips. "I don't mind. I'm actually glad. I kept checking names off of the list because I thought it made you feel safer."

I finished the rest of my beer and settled back into the water. "So much more free time, now."

"I do think something will be taking up quite a bit of our time."

I stared at him blankly. "Am I forgetting something?"

He looked offended. "The wedding."

I blushed. "I'll go dress shopping with Mother this weekend."

Sayid pulled off his shirt. "But we still have time to fill tonight." The dog growled again as more water sloshed over the side of the tub. I laughed as Rocko pushed the door open and left.


	24. New Perspective

**A New Perspective  
**  
The sound of gunfire startled me from sleep. I reached for the pistol in the bedside table, then paused. Anya was still dead asleep next to me. It had been nothing more than a dream.

We hadn't been in the assassin business for a few months, but my vigilance hadn't quite worn off yet. When I went for a morning run with the dog, I always had my eyes peeled for Whidmore's men. Sometimes in the middle of the night I got up and checked the perimeter of the house, swearing someone was waiting around the corner. Dreams were bizarre at times and filled with faces of those I'd tortured and those hunting me. Other nights, dreams were pleasant and full of Anya and her laughing green eyes, and those dreams are the ones that gave me hope.

I took a deep breath and rubbed my eyes. Anya's porcelain skin was almost glowing in the moonlight coming in from the window. We'd made love earlier, and she had decided to remain undressed to sleep. Something on her ribs caught my eye. Whether I had missed it in all the time we'd spent together, or whether it was new, I was unsure. Resting high on her ribcage next to her breast, a simple Arabic symbol: "fate." I touched it gently. She took a deep breath like she might open her eyes, but simply turned over and draped her arm over my waist.

"Fate," I whispered. I couldn't help but smile and love her a little more.

****

"Tell me how wonderful I am."

I opened an eye the next morning. "Hmm?"

Anya was leaning over me with a tray. "Tell me I'm wonderful," she chirped. "I made you breakfast."

"Mmm, you _are _wonderful." I sat up and stretched. "You didn't have to do this."

"I know." She shrugged and wandered back out of the bedroom. "I'm going out with Kate, remember," she called as I chewed.

"Of course," I called back.

Anya came back into the room. "Girl talk. Girl time." She winked. "We have things to talk about." She pulled on a pair of jeans over her black lace panties.

"Let me ask you something," I said. "Have you gotten a new tattoo lately?"

She turned and pointed to her thigh. A silhouette of a palm tree. Fitting. It symbolized our time on the Island, and she'd had it for some time. "This one," she said. "Why?"

"The character on your ribs," I said. "When did you get that? I've never seen it before."

"I got it on my first trip to the Middle East," she said. She scoffed. "How have you never seen it? It's not like you haven't seen me undressed before. You're not confusing me with your other girlfriend, are you?" She threw me a coy smile. "Anyway, it means fate." She paused, then laughed. "Not that I need to tell you that."

I watched, dumbfounded as she spritzed on her perfume and applied make-up. Her shirt was unbuttoned and hanging open. I stared at the tattoo. Chills ran down my arms. Then it really was fate.

The doorbell rang.

"Oops," Anya murmured. Since arriving back in America, she'd gone back to her old ways, she told me, of being perpetually late. "I'll be back this afternoon," she said, kissing me on the cheek. "Don't go getting on any airplanes while I'm gone."

I laughed. "Only with you. I wouldn't dare take the chance of being stranded on a deserted island with anyone else."

"Good answer." She buttoned her shirt and dashed to the door, no doubt excited to embark on her shopping trip.

I'd just finished breakfast when another knock came from the door. "Coming," I called. I wondered who was calling on a Saturday morning. Hopefully the reporters hadn't found where I lived. Hopefully Jack wasn't still pushing the Island issue. When I pulled the door open, I thought I was dreaming.

"Sayid," she said. It was Nadia. The woman I'd boarded Oceanic flight 815 for. The woman I was sure I would meet and then marry.

"Nadia," I said slowly. "What are you doing here?"

"I," she paused. "I came to talk."

"Come in," I said, still in shock. "Let me make you a cup of coffee."

*****

We chatted about this and that over coffee in the den. She told me how she'd made her way to America after I saved her life in Iraq. She worked at a bank and the government allowed her to stay as long as she behaved. I avoided the topic of the island, but elaborated on how Anya and I made a home together on Oceanic's dime. I left out the details about Anya being on the plane with me.

"Perhaps you can come back tonight," I said. "We're having some friends over for drinks. I'm sure Anya wouldn't mind one more."

Suddenly, Nadia stood up. "Sayid, what are we doing?" One side of her mouth was pulled up in a smart smile.

Staring at her, I set my mug down on the coffee table. "What do you mean?"

She crossed the room and pushed the ottoman in front of me out of her way. "Sayid, you know I am not here to chit chat." Her voice was dripping with honey and a sweet accent that reminded me of hot mornings in Iraq. The puppy love we had as children seemed so distant now. The sexual tension between us as we grew older was undeniable, but now, everything about her stirred up unpleasant memories.

She straddled me and put her hands on my shoulders. "Sayid, I have wanted this day for a long time. I have dreamed of when I'd see you again. I've wanted nothing more than to be with you, the man who saved my life." She pushed me against the back of the settee. "I had expected a warmer welcome." She leaned in to kiss me.

I quickly turned my face away. "I am engaged. Stop this."

Nadia turned my face back to hers, her long nails tickling my cheek. "But I had you first."

I gently but firmly pushed her off of my lap. "Nadia, I haven't seen you in years. Perhaps once we could have been together, but not now."

"Why?" Nadia pouted. She sat next to me and leaned in. "Tell me why you don't want to be with me, Sayid," she breathily asked. Her hand sat high on my thigh. I pushed it away.

"Everything changed when I met Anya. I couldn't imagine having someone take her place," I said. "Please, Nadia. I think it's time for you to go." I stood and offered a hand to her.

She took it and stood up. Before I could stop her, she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me.

"Mmpf," I managed against her lips. Before taking Oceanic 815, I'd often fantasized about kissing Nadia. I'd dreamed of our wedding, of spending days with her. Now, I regretted opening the door for her.

"What's going on?"

My heart thudded out of rhythm in a panic.

Nadia released me, and I looked to the doorway. Anya was standing with her arms hanging at their sides, and her mouth agape. I watched the color drain from her face momentarily, before it flushed a bright red. Her eyes flashed a warning.

"Anya," I tried. She'd never understand, and she'd never forgive me. My stomach dropped and a brief flash of hurting Nadia crossed my mind. I took a deep breath and pushed it away. She had backed away and looked ashamed of herself. I reached out. "Anya."


End file.
